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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




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Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1880, by 

B_F. CRAIG, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D. C. 



V 



PRINTED AND ELEC TROTVPED BY 

Ramsey, Millet & Hudson, Kansas City, Mo. 
1880. 



TO THE RISING GENERATION THIS BOOK IS AFFECTION- 
ATELY DEDICATED BY 

THE AUTHOR. 



coisrTEisrTS. 



The Story of a Hundred Years. Pen Pictures of 
Eventful Scenes and Struggles of Life. 

Page. 

Scene i — Introduction 9 

Scene 2— The Hero of Shirt-Tail Bend 18 

Scene 3 — The Separated Sisters 27 

Scene 4 — Roxie Daymon and Rose Simon .... 39 

Scene 5— -The Belle of Port William 50 

Scene 6 — The Second Generation 62 

Scene 7 — War Between the States 77 

History, Science, Philosophy and Art, Blended in 
Original Lectures. 

Lecture i — On Liberty and Law 93 

Lecture 2 — On Time and Motion 106 

Lecture 3 — On Mind and Organism 121 

Lecture 4 — On Man and Animals 138 

Lecture 5 — On Spirit and Soul 156 



contents. 

Genius and Poetry. 

Genius 175 

My Native Land — address to Young America . . .176 

Rise and Fall of Old Nick— to the Devil 180 

Confederate Flag — to the Ladies of Plattsburg . .183 

Family and Fate — to a Female Relative 184 

Twilight — Intermediate Body and Soul » 187 

The Devil and Tom Walker — a Dialogue 188 

The Beautiful Snow — an Emblem of Virtue .... 192 
The Workmen's Saturday Night — a Tribute to Hon- 
est Labor 196 

Inside View of the United States Mail — Revealed by 

the Angel of Observation 198 

Hard Times 202 

The Power of Truth 204 

The Wheels of Time 204 

The Days of My Childhood 205 

Ideas and Idols — Essay on Jacob and Laban . . . 206 

The Dying Drunkard to His Soul . 208 

The Moneyless Man vs. Moneyless Woman . . . .211 
The Poet vs. Tom Watson's Deer 213 



Pen Pictui^es. 

Of Eventful Scenes and Struggles of IJfe. 



SCENE FIRST— INTRODUCTION. 

It is fashionable to preface what we have to say. 

Some men build a large portico in front of the edifice 
...ey erect. 

This may attract the eye of a stranger, but no real com^ 
foit can be realized until we enter the house. 

And then no display of fine furniture or studied 
of manners can equal a whole-soul, hearty welcome. 

Besides, no long proclamation of the entertainment Ca.a 
©qual in interest the entertainment itself. 

Without further preliminary ceremony, I will introduce 
you to the sad experience of a living man : — 

Born in the house of respectable parents, on the south- 
ern bank of the beautiful Ohio, in the dawn of the nineteenth 
century, and educated in a log school house, the first scenes 
of my manhood were upon the waters of the great Mississippi 
river and its tributaries. Leaving home at an early age, no 
hopeful boy was ever turned loose in the wide world more 
ignorant of the traps and pit-falls set to catch and degrade 
the youth of this broad and beautiful land. 

At Vicksburg, Natchez, Under-the-HiU, and the Cres- 



10 



PEN PICTURES. 



cent City, with armies of dissipation— like the Roman Caesar 
— I came, I saw, I conquered. 

I had been taught from my earliest infancy that a thief 
was a scape-goat— on the left-hand side of the left gate, where 
all the goats are to be crowded on the last day. A7id that 
saved me. 

For I soon discovered that the gambler dLTid. the M/^/ acted 
upon the same theory. 

Having no desire to live through the scenes of my life 
again— I am not writing my own history, but the history of 
some of the events in the hves of others that I have witness- 
ed or learned by tradition— in the execution of the task I 
shall enter the palace like the log cabin— without stopping 
to ring the bell. 

Although I have been a diligent reader for more than 
forty years, my greatest knowledge of human character has 
been drawn from observation. For prudential reasons some 
fancy names are used in this story, but the characters drawn 
are true to the letter* Local, it is true, but may they not rep- 
resent character throughout this broad continent? In 1492 
Columbus discovered America— a Rough Diamond— a New 
World. 

Our fathers passed through the struggle of life in the rough, 
and the log cabin ought to be as dear to the American hea t 
as the modern palace. Emancipated from ideas of locality, 
I hope, and honestly trust that the sentiments in the Rough 
Diamond will be treasured in the hearts of the millions of my 
countrymen, and that no American character will ever be- 
come so brilliant that it cannot allude with a native pride to 
the Rough Diamond— our country a hundred years ago. 

And with a thousand other ideas brought to the mind, 
and blended with the Rough Diamond, may the good Angel 
of observation rest with the readw as you peruse these pages. 

Near the seat of the present town of Helena, Arkansas, 



PEN PICTURES. 11 

old Billy Horner and Henry Mooney made a race on two 
little ponies, called respectively Silver Heels and the Sp tted 
Buck. 

The distance was one quarter of a mile, and the stake 
one hundred dollars. 

Wishing to obtain the signature of the Governor of Ar- 
kansas to a land grant and title to a certain tract of land on 
the Mississippi river, I determined to attend the races. 

The ponies were to start at twelve o'clock, on the 15th 
day of May. I forget the year, but it was soon after the 
inauguration of steam navigation on the Mississippi. 

On the 14th day of May I left Bush Bayou, twenty miles 
below Helena and fifteen miles back from the river, where 
I was on a tour of surveying, in company of two negro boys, 
from fifteen to twenty years of age, to assist me. Our route 
was down the Bayou, which was evidently an old bed of the 
great river. How long since the muddy and turbulent* wa- 
ters had left this location and sought the present channel no 
human calculation could tell. Trees had grown up as large 
as any in other localities in the Mississippi bottoms, in some 
places extending entirely across the Bayou ; in other places 
there was an open space one hundred yards wide and some- 
times a mile long, but there were many places where the tim- 
ber extended from shore to shore for miles. In such places 
our only guide was a blaze upon the trees, made by the first 
navigators of the Bayou. We started in a canoe, eight feet 
long and eighteen inches wide, with a large trunk, a number 
of tools, and three men. When all were on board the top 
of our boat was only three-quarters of an inch above the 
water. In this critical condition the negroes had to go as 
freight, for they are proverbially too awkward to manage a 
nice thing. Near the close of our journey we were attacked 
by an alligator. He was sixteen feet long, and larger than 
our boat. His attack frightened the negroes so badly that it 



12 PEN PICTURES. 

was impossible to keep them still, and we came very near be- 
mg upset. I fired several times at the alligator, with a 
double-barreled shot-gun, charged with twenty-four buckshot, 
but the shot only glanced from his scales and fell into the 
water. At last, frightened by the loud cries of the negroes, 
the animal left us. 

When we arrived on the bank of the Mississippi the 
Western hemisphere had blindfolded the eye of day ; the riv- 
er was bank full, the turbulent waters bearing a large quantity 
of drift wood down the stream. Upon the Arkansas shore 
there was no sign of civilization. On the Mississiopi shore, 
two miles below, there was a cabin, and the faint light of the 
inmates was the only sign of civilization that met our view. 
To cross the great river, in the dark, with its turbulent wa- 
ters and drift wood, with a barque so heavily laden, was 
worse than the encounter with the alligator. I was young, 
brave and enthusiastic. Directing the negroes to place them- 
selves in the bottom of the boat, and not to stir hand or foot 
at the risk of being knocked overboard with the paddle, I 
headed our little barque for the light in the cabin, which gave 
us a course quartering down stream. To have held her 
square across the stream, she would have undoubtedly filled 
with water. The night was dark, but the air was still as the 
inaudible breath of time. 

Knowing that the perils of the sea, without wind, are 
abated one hundred fold, I made the ven^.are, and landed 
safely at the Mississippi cabin. 

Eighteen miles below Helena, and on the opposite side 
of the river, I passed the night, with a determination to be 
on the race ground the next day at twelve o'clock. I was 
up early in the morning. As I passed out the cot of my 
friend, in front of me the great father of waters rolled on in 
his majesty to the bosom of the ocean. 

On the background the foliage of the forest cast a green 



PEN PICTURES. 13 

shade upon the gray light of the morning. Every animal on 
the premises had sought refuge in the cane brakes from the 
ravages of the green-head fly and the gallinipper. Like 
Richard the Third — I was ready to cry, a horse — a horse — my 
kingdom for a horse. 

Through the dim distance, half concealed by the cane, 
I discovered a mule, and was fortunate enough to bridle him. 
He was an old mule; some said the -first Chickasaw. French- 
man that ever settled in St. Louis rode him from the north 
of Mexico to the Mississippi river. 

Others said that he was in the army of the First 
Napoleon, and had been imported across the water. Be 
this as it may, he was a good saddle mule, for I arrived upon 
the race ground fifteen minutes ahead of time. 

I obtained the desired signature and saw the Spotted Buck 
win the race. But many said it was a jockey race, and that 
Silver Heels was the fleetest horse. The races continued 
through the evening. I had no desire to bet, but if I had, 
I should have bet on the fast man and not the fast horse 

After this event, and nearly half a century ago, I was 
standing on the street in Vicksburg. It was early in the 
morning, and the city unusually quiet. My attention was 
attracted in the direction of the jail by women running in- 
doors and men rushing along the street ; I saw sticks, stones, 
and bricks flying, and men running as in pursuit of some 
wild animal, and as I caught a glimpse of the figure of the 
retreating man, the sharp sound of a rifle gun rang out upon 
the morning air. 

Following on to a spot on the street where a large crowd 
of men had collected, I saw the face of a dead man as the 
body was being turned over by one of the bystanders. 
The lineaments of the cold, marble face, spoke in 
a language not to be mistaken — that the dead was, in life^ a 
brave man. 



u 

PEN PICTURES. 



I soon learned that the name of the dead man was 
" Alonzo Phelps," and that he had been tried for the crime 
of murder and sentenced by the court to be hanged by the 
neck until he was dead, and this was the day for his execu- 
tion ; that he had broken, or found an opportunity to leave 
the jail, and nothing would stop him but the rifle-gun in the 
hands of an officer of the law. 

I also learned that he had written a confession of his 
crimes, the manuscript of which was then in the jail, for he 
had knocked the keeper down with a stone ink-stand, with 
which he had been furnished to write his confession. 

By the politeness of the jailor I was permitted to exam- 
ine the confession, which closed with these remarkable words, 
' ' To-morrow is the day appointed for my execution, but Twill not 
hang. " 

The confession was afterward published. I read it many 
times, but have forgotten most of it. I remember he said the 
first man he ever murdered was in Europe, and that he was 
compelled, for safety, to flee the country and come to Amer- 
ica. There was nothing so unusual in this, but the manner 
in which he disposed of his victim was singular, and more 
particularly the revelation he gave of his thoughts at the 
time. 

He said he carried the body to a graveyard, and, with a 
spade that had been left there,- he shoveled all of the dirt out 
of a newly-made grave until he came to the coffin. He then 
laid the body of the murdered man on the coffin and refilled 
the grave. -I then," says he, -left the graveyard, and 
spent the balance of the night in reflections. How strange, 
I thought, it would be for two spirits, on the last day, to find 
themselves in the same grave." ''I thought," says he, ''if the 
relatives of the rightful owner of the grave should, in after 
years, conclude to move the bones of their kinsman, 
when they dug them up there would be two skulls, four arms, 



PEN PICTURES. 15 

and so on, and how it would puzzle them to get the bones of 
their kinsman." 

After reading this confession I regretted very much that 
I had never seen Alonzo Phelps while living, for there was 
blended in his composition many strange elements. But that 
part of his confession that gives interest to our story was the 
papers taken from the man he murdered in Europe, of which 
we have spoken. He concealed the papers, in a certain 
place, on the night he buried the man, and, as he was com- 
pelled to flee the country, said papers were, a long time after- 
ward, discovered by reading his confession made in America. 
With the settlement of the West, the navigation of the 
western waters was one of the principal industries. Keel 
and flat bottom boats were the first used. Keel boats were 
propelled against the stream w'th long poles, placed with one 
end on the bottom of the stream and a man's shoulder at the 
other end, pushing the boat from under him, and conse- 
quently against the stream. Flat bottom boats only drifted 
with the current, sometimes bearing large cargoes. 

Louisville, Kentucky, was one of the principal points 
between Pittsburg and New Orleans. Here the placid waters 
of the beautiful river rushed madly over some ledges of rocks, 
called the falls of Ohio. Many reshipments in an early day 
were performed at this point, and if the boat was taken over 
the falls her pilot for the trip to New Orleans was not consid- 
ered competent to navigate the falls. Resident pilots, in 
Louisville, were always employed to perform this task. 

And few of the early boatmen were ever long upon the 
river without having acquaintances in Louisville. 

Beargrass creek emptied its lazy waters into the Ohio at 
a point called, at the time of which we write, the suburbs of 
Louisville. 

In a long row of cottages on the margin of Beargrass 
creek, that has long since given place to magnificent build- 



16 PEN PICTURES. 

ings, was the home of a friend with whom I was stopping. 

Rising early one morning, I found the neighborhood in 
great excitement ; a woman was missing. It was Daymon's 
wife. She had no relatives known to the people of Louis- 
ville. She was young, intelligent, and as pure from any stain 
of character as the beautiful snowo 

Daymen was also young. He was a laborer, or boat 
hand, frequently assisting in conducting boats across the falls. 
But he was dissipated^ and in fits of intoxication frequently 
abused his wife. 

All who knew Daymon's wife were ready to take the 
dark fiend by the throat who had consigned her beautiful 
form to the dark waters of Beargrass creek. 

Every one was busy to find some sign or memento of 
the missing woman. 

A large crowd had gathered around a shop, where a 
large woden boot hung out for a sign — a shoe shop. When 
I arrived on the spot a workman was examining' a shoe, and 
testified that it was one of a pair he had previously made fot 
Daymon's wife. The shoe had been picked up, early that 
morning, on the margin of Beargrass creek. Suspicion 
pointed her finger at Daymon, and he was arrested and 
charged with drowning his wife in Beargrass creek. 

Daymon was not a bad-looking man, and, as the evi- 
dence was all circumstantial, I felt an uncommon interest in 
the trial, and made arrangements to attend the court, which 
was to sit in two weeks. 

On the morning of the trial the court room was crowded. 
The counsel for the state had everything ready, and the pris- 
oner brought to the bar. The indictment was then read, 
charging the prisoner with murder in the first degree. And 
to the question, are you guilty or not guilty ? Daymon an- 
swered not gui!t)\ and resumed his seat. Silence now pre- 
vailed for a few minutes, when the judge inquired, *'is the 



PEN PICTURES. IT 

State ready ?" The attorney answered, ' ' yes. " The judge in- 
quired, "has the prisoner any one to defend him ?" Daymon 
shook' his head. 

"It is then the duty of the court to appoint your defense," 
said the judge, naming the attorneys, and the trial proceeded. 
The witnesses for the state being sworn, testified to the shoe 
as already described. In the mean time Beargrass creek had 
been dragged, ?nd the body of a woman foiand. The fish 
had eaten the face beyond recognition, but a chintz calico 
dress was sworn to by two sewing women as identical to one 
they had previously made for Daymon' s wife. 

The state's attorney pictured all of this circumstantial 
evidence to the jury in an eloquence seldom equaled. 

But, who ever heard a lawyer plead the cause of a mon- 
eyless man ? The attorneys appointed to defend Daymon 
preserved only their respectability in the profession. 

And the jury returned their verdict gui'Uy. Nothing now 
remained but to pronounce the sentence, and then the execu- 
tion. 

The judge was a crippled man, and slowly assumed an 
erect position. Then casting his eyes around the court room, 
they rested upon the prisoner, and he paused a moment. That 
moment was silent, profound, awful ! for every ear was open 
to catch the first sound of that sentence. The silence was 
broken by a wild scream at the door. The anxious crowd 
opened a passage, and a woman entered the court room, her 
hair floating upon her shoulders, and her voice wild and 
mellow as the horn of resurrection. That woman was Day- 
men's wife. 



SCENE SECOND. —THE HERO OF SHIRT-TAIL 

BEND. 

Two boys in one house grew up side by side, 
By the mother loved, and the father's pride 
With raven locks and rosy cheeks they stood, 
As living types of the family blood. 
Don, from the mother did his mettle take, 
Dan, the Prodigal — born to be a rake. 

In the month of May, 1816, the Enterprise landed at 
Louisville, having made the trip from New Orleans in twen- 
ty-five days. She was the first steamboat that ever ascended 
the Mississippi river. The event was celebrated with a pub- 
lic dinner, given by the citizens of Louisville to Captain 
Henry M. Shreve, her commander. 

A new era was inaugurated on the western waters, yet 
the clouds of monopoly had to be blown away, and the free 
navigation of the Mississippi heralded across the land. 

The startling events of the times are necessarily con- 
nected with our story. 

For the truth of history was never surpassed by fiction, 
only in the imagination of weak minds. 

Sixty miles above Louisville, on the southern bank of 
the Ohio, stood a round-log cabin, surrounded by heavy tim- 
ber. In the background a towering clift reared its green- 
covered brow to overlook the valley — the woodland scenery 
seemed to say: "here is the home of the wolf and the wild 
cat," and it gave the place a lonesome look. 



PEN PICTURES. 19 

A passing neighbor had informed the inmates of the cabin 
that a saw-mill was coming up the river. Two barefooted 
boys stood in the front yard, and looked with hopeful eyes 
upon the wonder of the passing steamer. The gentle breeze 
that waved their infant locks, whispered the coming storms 
of the future. 

It was the Washington, built by Captain Shreve, and 
was subsequendy seized for navigating the western waters. 
The case was carried to the Supreme Court of the United 
States, where the exclusive pretensions of the monopolist to 
navigate the western waters by steam were denied. 

Some of the old heroes who battled for the free naviga- 
tion of the western waters, left a request to be buried on the 
bank of the beautiful Ohio, where the merry song of the 
boatman would break the stillness of their resting place, and 
the music of the steam engine soothe their departed spirits. 
Well have their desires been fulfilled. 

Some long and tedious summers had passed away — not- 
withstanding a congressman had declared in Washington City, 
'' that the Ohio river was frozen over six months in the year, 
and the balance of the season would not float a tad-pole." 

The music of the steam engine or the Ohio and Missis- 
sippi rivers, had given rise to unforseen industries. Don and 
Dan Carlo, standing in the half-way house between boyhood 
and manhood, without inheriting a red cent in the wide 
world with which to commencf the battle of life, grown up 
in poverty, surrounded by family pride, with willing hearts 
and strong arms, were ready to undertake any enterprise 
that glimmering fortune might poin-t out. 

A relative on the mother's side held the title papers,signed 
by the Governor of Arkansas, to a tract of land on the Mis- 
sissippi river, who gave the privilege to Don and Dan Carlo, 
to establish a wood yard on said premises. 

For steam navigation was not only a fixed fact, but the 



20 PEN PICTURES, 

boats were much improved — many of them taking on board 
twenty-four cords of wood at one landing 

'* Competition is the life of trade," and several enterpris- 
ing woodmen were established in this locality ; and when a 
passing steamboat would ring for wood after night, all anxious 
to show the first light, the woodmen, torch in hand, would 
run out of their cabins in their shirt-tails. From this circum- 
stance, that locality was known by the boatmen from Pitts- 
burgh to New Orleans, by the homely appellation of the Shirt- 
Tail Bend. 

That, like many other localities on the Mississippi, was 
first settled by wood-choppers. The infantile state of society 
in those neighborhoods can be better imagined than de- 
scribed. The nearest seat of justice was forty miles, and the 
highest standard of jurisprudence was a third-rate county 
court lawyer. Li.tle Rock was, perhaps, the only point in 
the State that could boast of being the residence of a print- 
ers' devil, or the author of a dime novel. 

The wood-cutters were the representative men of the 
neighborhood. The Gospel of peace and good will to men 
was, perhaps, slightly preserved in the memories of some 
who had been raised in a more advanced state of civilization , 
The passing days were numbered by making a mark on the 
day-board every morning, and a long mark every seventh day, 
for the Sabbath. 

Quarrels concerning property seldom, if ever, occurred. 
The criminal code or personal difficulties were generally set- 
tled according to the law of the early boatmen, which was : 
if two men had a personal quarrel, they were required to 
choose seconds, go ashore and fight it out. The seconds 
were chosen to see that no weapons were used and no foul 
holds were taken. It was a trial of physical strength, and 
when the vanquished party cried ^' enough!'^ the difficulty 
was considered settled. 



PEN PICTURES. 21 

I am speaking of times prior to the inauguration of the 
Arkansas Bowie knife and pistol Many of the early wood- 
cutters on the Mississippi were men of sterling integrity. 
Don Carlo never wrote a line for the future antiquarian to 
ponder over, or dreamed that he was transmitting anything 
to posterity; yet, by his bold and noble conduct, he stamped 
the impress of his character upon the memories of all who 
witnessed the blossom of society in the woods on the Missis- 
sippi river. 

Brindle Bill was a wood-chopper, but he never worked 
much at his profession. He was one of theclas^of wood- 
cutters that were generally termed the floating part of the 
population. This class were employed by the proprietors of 
the wood yards, to cut wood by the cord — for one hundred 
cords they received fifty dollars. 

Brindle Bill was five feet and eight inches high, with 
square shoulders and as strong as a buffalo — and although he 
was classed with the floating population, he had been in that 
locality for more than a year and was a shining light at head- 
quarters. 

This was the resort of all who claimed to be fond of fun. 
It was an old cabin that was built by some early backwoods- 
men, who had deserted it and moved on. It was some dis- 
tance from the river, and left unoccupied by the woodmen. 
Situated in the edge of a small cane-brake, a large quantity 
of cane had been cut to clear the way, and piled against the 
west end of the cabin. 

Here the jug was kept. These men had no brilliantly 
lighted saloon for a resort, but human nature is the same un- 
der all circumstances. In this locality, like all others, there 
were two parties, or two spirits — one was to improve the 
other to degrade society. As we have said, Brindle Bill was 
the leading spirit of his party. He was always ready to fill 
the jug and play a social game at cards — he only bet, as he 



22 PEN PICTURES. 

said, to keep up a little interest in the game. Brindle Bill 
always had a pocket full of money. He loved to tell long 
stories, and frequently related previous combats, in which he 
came off the victor. As the test of manhood was physical 
strength, Brindle Bill was the bully of the settlement— no one 
desired a personal quarrel with him. 

Some said that S. S. Simon, the proprietor of a wood 
yard, sided with Brindle Bill— whether this was true or not 
— Simon's wife, was one of the leading spirits of the other 
party. She was a woman of few words, but the force of her 
character was felt by the whole neighborhood. 

Cord, or steam wood, was the principal source of revenue, 
and large quantities were annually sold, thousands of dollars 
come into Shirt-tail Bend, but there was no improvement, 
they had no school house, and a church, and post-office were 
not thought of. 

Don and Dan Carlo, proprietors of one of the principal 
wood yards, dear brothers^ were animated by different spirits. 
Dan was a fast friend of Brindle Bill. Don was a silent spirit 
of the other party. They were equal partners in the wood 
b siness, and when a sale was made, Dan received half of 
he money, but it so happened that all expenses were pa'd 
by Don. This had been the situation for a long time. In 
vain Don appealed to Dan — tried to arouse family pride. 
The two kept bachelors hall, and many times, through the 
long vigils of the night, Don laid before Dan, their situation, 
scoffed at by a la'-ge family relationship, because they were 
poor, and then representing that they must fail in their bus- 
iness, because half the money received would not pay 
expenses, to all of this, Dan would promise to reform — and 
promise, and promise, and pf'OJ?iise, but would always fail. 

In the dusk of the evening, after a large sale of wood 
had been made, at the Carlo wood yard, S. S. Siraon, Dan 
Carlo, Sundown Hill and Brindle Bill were seen making their 



PEN PICTURES. 23 

way slowly to headquarters. Simon's wife remarked to a per- 
son near her, " Dan's money will ^p to-night y 

Don Carlo was seen sitting alone in his cabin, his hand 
upon his forehead, his eyes gazing intently upon the floor. 
TI.e burning coal upon the hearthstone glimmered in the 
glory of its element; the voice of the wild ducks upon the 
river shore, told the deep, dead ho'-^rof the night, and aroused 
Don Carlo from his reverie — the sun had crossed the meridian 
on the other side of the globe, and no sound of the foot-fall 
of his absent brother disturbed the stillness of the hour. 

Don Carlo picked up a pamphlet that lay upon the table 
and turned over the leaves, it was the confession of Alonzo 
Phelps. 

He said mentally, Phelps was a very bad, but a very 
brave man. He defied the city of Vicksburg, defied the 
law, and the State of Mississippi. 

He thought of the generations before him, and family 
pride filled his veins with warm blood. Don Carlo was ready 
to face Brindle Bill, or the Brindle Devil, in defence of his 
rights, and he started for headquarters. 

Cool, calculating woman — Simon's wife, the patient 
watcher for her absent husband, saw Don Carlo wending his 
way through the stillness of the night, to headquarters. Her 
keen, woman's wit, told her there was trouble ahead. 

Silently, and unseen, with fire brand in hand, (this was 
before friction matches were thought of,) she left the Simon 
cabin. 

When Don Carlo arrived at headquarters, the door and 
window was fastened on the inside, a faint light from a tallow 
candle, that glimmered through the cracks of the cabiHj, 
whispered the deep laid scheme of the inmates— S. S. Simon, 
Sundown Hill and Brindle Bill were banded together to 
swindle Dan Carlo. Don Carlo went there to enter that 
cabin. Quick as thought he clambered up the corner of the 



24 PEN PICTURES. 

jutting logs, and passed down the chimney. In front of him, 
around a square table, sat four men. On the center of the 
table a large pile of shining silver dollars, enlivened the light 
of the tallow candle. 

The players looked up in amazement ; had an angel from 
heaven dropped among them, they would not have been 
more astonished. While the men sat, between doubt and 
fear, Don Carlo raked the money from the table, and put 
it in his pocket. 

Brindle Bill was the first to rise from the table, he held 
up four cards, claimed the money, said he was personally 
insulted by Don Carlo, and by G — d he should fight it 
out. He chose S. S. Simon for his second, and boastingly 
prepared for the contest. 

Don Carlo used no words, nor did he choose any second ; 
Sundown Hill and Dan Carlo looked at each other, and at 
S. S. Simon, with a look that said, we stand by Don Carlo. 

S. S. Simon hallooed fair play, and Brindle Bill pitched 
in. Brindle Bill was the stoutest man, Don Carlo the most 
active, the contest was sharp, and very doubtful, notwithstand- 
ing the boasting character of Brindle Bill, true pluck was upon 
the side of Don Carlo. At this critical moment, Simon's 
wife appeared upon the scene of action, the door of the 
cabin was fast, Simon was on the inside. She could hear 
the blows and smell the blood, for a lucky lick from Don 
had started the blood from Brindle Bill's nose, but could not 
see or know the combatants. Quick as thought, she applied 
the fire-brand to the cane pile, on the west end of the cabin. 
A strong breeze from the west soon enveloped the roof of 
the cabin in flames. The men rushed out into the open air 
much frightened. Simon's wife grabbed her husband and 
dragged him toward their home, with loud and eloquent cries 
of shame. The contest was ended, and Don Carlo had the 
money. Brindle Bill appeakd to the men of his party to see 



PEN PICTURES. 25 

that he should have/^/r//^^. His appeals were all in vain, 
the fear of him was broken, and he had no great desire to 
renew the contest. Seeing no hope in the future, Brindle 
Bill left the new settlement. And Don Carlo was justly 
entitled to the appellation of the Hero of Shivt-Tail Bend, 

Society was started upon the up-grade. Some planters 
commenced to settle in the Bend, little towns were now spring- 
ing up on the Mississippi, and Dan Carlo out of his element, 
made it convenient to visit the towns. A new era had dawned 
upon the criminal code in Arkansas — the pistol and the bowie 
knife, of which writers of fiction have portrayed in startling 
colors. Shordy after these events, Dan Carlo was found dead 
in a saloon. 

It was in April, late one Saturday evening, the steam- 
boat " Red Stone" blew up sixty-five miles above Louisville, 
while landing on the Kentucky shore; the boat burned to the 
water edge, and many lives were lost Men returning from 
the South, to the homes of their nativity, were consigned to 
the placid waters of the Ohio for a resting place, others were 
mangled and torn, left to eke out a weary life, without some 
of their limbs. The scene upon the shore was heart-render- 
ing above description. The body of one poor man was picked 
up one-quarter of a mile from the boat, in a corn field, every 
bone in his body was broken, and its fall to the earth made 
a hole in the ground, eighteen inches deep. How high he 
went in the air can only be conjectured, but we may safely 
say it was out of sight. Several were seen to fall in the mid- 
dle of the river, who never reached the shore. The dead 
and dying were gathered up and carried to the houses nearest 
at hand. The inhabitants of the shore had gathered for three 
miles up and down the river — all classes and ages were seen 
pulling pieces of the wreck and struggHng persons to the shore^ 
Two girls or half-grown women passed by me walking slowly 
upon the pebbled shore, gazing into the water, when some 



26 



PEN PICTURES. 



distance from me, I saw one of them rush into the water up 
to her arm-pits and drag something to the shore. I hastened 
to the spot, and the girls passed on toward the wreck. Sev- 
eral men were carrying the apparently lifeless body of a man 
upon a board in the direction of the half-way castle, a place 
of deposit for the dead and dying. His identity was ascer- 
tained by some papers taken from his pocket, it was — -Don 
Carlo— the ''Hero of Shirt-Tail Bend." 



f 






f 



SCENE THIRD — THE SEPARATED SISTERS. 

On the stream of human nature's blood, 

Are up 3 and downs in every shape and form, 

Some sail gently on a rising flood, 

And some are wrecked in a tearful storm. 

Tom Fairfield was descended from one of the best fam- 
ilies in Virginia. Yet he was animated by what we may call 
a restless spirit. He ran away from home at twelve years of 
age, and came to Kentucky with a family of emigrants, who 
settled near Bonne Station, in 1791. Kentucky, until after 
Wayne's treaty, in 1795, was continually exposed to incur- 
sions from the Indians; yet, before Tom's day of manhood, 
the bloody contest between the white and the red men had 
terminated on the virgin soil of the new-born State — Ken- 
tucky was admitted into the Union in 1792. Yet the heroic 
struggles with the Indians by the early settlers were fresh in 
the memories of all. Prior to the setdement of Kentucky 
by white men, the Southern and Northwestern tribes of In- 
dians were in the habit of hunting here as upon neutral 
ground. No wigwam had been erected, but it was claimed 
by all as a hunting ground. The frequent and fierce con- 
flicts that occurred upon the meeting of the Indian tribes, to- 
gether with conflicts with white men, caused the Indians first 
to call Kentucky ''The dark and bloody ground.'' At no point 
on the American Continent had the hatred between the two 
races risen to a higher point. Long after the peace between 



23 PEN PICTURES. 

England and America, and the close of the war of American. 
Independence, the conflict between the white and red men 
iQ Kentucky was a war of extermination. The quiet cabin 
of the white man was frequently entered, under cover of 
night, by some roving band of Indians,and women and child- 
ren tomahawked in cold blood. White men when taken by 
them, whether in the field at work, or behind a tree, watching 
their opportunity to shoot an Indian, were taken off to their 
towns in Ohio ana burned at the stake, or tortured to death 
in a most cruel manner. No wonder the early settler in 
Kentucky swore eternal vengeance against the Indian who 
crossed his path, whether in peace oi war. In a land where 
the white woman has cleaved the skull of the red warrior 
with an ax, who attempted to enter her cabin rifle in hand, 
from whence all but her had fled — who shall refuse to re- 
member the heroines of the early settlers, and the historic 
name of the dark and bloody ground. 

When Tom Fairfield arrived at manhood, the golden wing 
of peace was spread over the new-born State, from the Cum- 
berland Mountains to the Ohio river. 

A tract of land embracing a beautiful undulating surface, 
with a black and fertile soil, the forest growth of which is 
black walnut, cherry, honey locust, buckeye, pawpaw, sugar 
maple, elm, ash, hawthorn, coffee- tree and yellow poplar, 
entwined with grape vines of large size, which has been de- 
nominated the garden of Kentucky. 

Many of the phrases, familiar to our grandfathers, have 
become obsolete, such as latch-string, bee-crossing, hunting- 
shirt, log-rolHng, hominy-block, pack-horse and pack-saddle. 

While many of their customs have been entirely forgo - 
ten, or never known, by the present generation, a history ot 
some of the events of the time cannot fail to be interesting. 

Tom had learned to read and write in Virginia, and this 
accomplishment frequently gave him employment, for many 



PEN PICTURES. 29 

of the early settlers were glad to pay him for his assistance 
in this line of business, and it suited Tom to change his place 
of abode and character of employment. He was industrious, 
but never firm in his purpose, frequently commencing an 
enterprise, but always ready to abandon it in the middle. 

Socially he was a great favorite at all wedding parties, 
and weddings were of frequent occurrence about this time. 

For while Kentucky was over-run with Indiant^ the 
female portion of families wete slow to immigrate to the scene 
of such bloody strife, and many of the early planters were 
young men, who found themselves bachelors for the want of 
female association. But with the influx of population now 
taking place, females largely predominated. 

A wedding in Kentucky at that time was a day of re- 
joicing, and the young men in hearing distance all considered 
themselves invited. A fine dinner or supper was always 
prepared; of wine they had none, but distilling corn whisky 
was among the first industries of Kentucky, and at every 
wedding there was a custom called running for the bottle^ which 
was of course a bottle of whisky. 

The father of the bride, or some male acquaintance at 
the house of the bride — about one hour previous to the time 
announced for the ceremony — would stand on the door-step 
with the bottle in his hand, ready to deliver it to the first 
young man that approached him. At the appointed time the 
young men of the neighborhood would rendezvous at a point 
agreed upon, and when all were ready and the word^^ given, 
the race for the bottle, on fine horses, to the number of fif- 
teen or twenty, was amusing and highly exciting. Tom had 
the good fortune to be the owner of a fleet horse — to own a 
fine horse and saddle was ever the pride and ambition of the 
young Kentuckian — and he won many bottles ; but the end 
proved that it was bad instead of good luck, for Tom sub- 
sequently became too fond of the bottle. 



BO PEN PICTURES. 

Tom was young and hopeful, far away from his kindred, 
and he also aiarried the daughter of an Englishman, who 
was not so fortunate as to be the owner of any portion of 
the virgin soil, but distinguished himself as a fine gardener, 
and all the inheritance Tom received with his wife was a 
cart-load of gourds. 

You laugh, but you must remember that a few pewter 
plates and cob-handle knives was all that adorned the cup- 
boards of some of our fathers, and gourds of different size 
made useful vessels. Coffee was not much in use, and in the 
dawn of the Revolution a party of brave Americans had thrown 
a ship-load of tea into the sea. 

Tom, like many of the young planters, built a cabin upon 
a tract of land, under the Henderson claim, as purchased 
from the Cherokee Indians, which claim was subsequently set 
aside by the State of Virginia. 

Tom, as we have said, was of a restless disposition, and 
from a planter he turned to be a boatman. Leaving his 
family at home in their cabin, he engaged to make a trip to 
Fort Washington (Cincinnati, then a village) on a keel-boat, 
descending the Kentucky and ascending the Ohio rivers. 
On this trip he first beheld the stupendous precipices on the 
Kentucky river, where the banks in many places are three 
hundred feet high, of solid Hmestone, and the beautiful coun- 
try at he mouth of the Kentucky, on the Ohio river. 

He was absent from home three months, for prior to steam 
navigation, the Ohio had been navigated by keel and flat- 
bottom boats for a quarter of a century, and many of the old 
boatmen were men of dissipated habits — bad school for Tom. 
When he returned home it was too late in the season to raise 
a crop. The next winter was long and cold. Tom and his 
little family keenly felt the grasp of poverty, and many 
times, in the dead hour of nisrht, when the cold wind made 
the only audible sound on the outside, the latch-string of 



PEN PICTURES. 31 



the cabin door had been pulled in, and the fire burned down 
to a bed of coals, Tom and his wife sat quietly and sadly by 
the dim light of a tallow candle, and told the stories of their 
families. Tom intended at some future time to return to 
Virginia and claim an inheritance, although, as he said, he 
was riot the eldest son of his father, and by the laws of Vir- 
ginia the eldest son is entitled to all of the estate in land, 
which, as he said, caused him to leave home ; but from other 
sources he hoped in the future to reap the benefit of an m- 

heritance. 

Tom's wife, in her turn, told the story of her ancestors 
in the old country, and how she lived in hope of some revival 
of family fortune, which by the discovery of the necessary 
papers, would give her the means of rising above the cold 
grasp of poverty, so keenly felt by them; and many times 
through the long nights of winter, in that secret chamber 
where no intruder comes, Tom and his wife, whom he always 
called by the endearing name of mother, with a heart-felt 
desire to honor his infant children, had many long and in- 
teresting interviews upon the subject of the ups and downs of 
family fortune. 

The joyous days of spring dawned upon the little house- 
hold, and with it new ideas in the mind of Tom Fairfield ; 
it was to become d. preacher; why not ? He could read— and 
must according to the philosophy of the people understand 
the Scriptures. Whatever may have been the delinquency 
of the early settlers in Kentucky, they were devotedly a re- 
ligious people. 

Ministers of the gospel were not required to study The- 
ology; to be able to read was the only accomplishment, ex- 
cept the call', it was thought indispensable that a preacher 
should have a divine call. 

Whatever may be said of ignorant worship, many of the 
t^x\y preachers in Kentucky were men of sterling piety, and 



32 



PEN PICTURES. 



did much to elevate and improve the rude society of the 
backwoodsmen. What ihey lacked in learning they made 
up in earnestness and a strict devotion to the Mastei^s cause ; 
what they lacked in eloquence they made up in force. Some 
extracts from the sermons of these old men have been pre- 
served. I quote from one handed me by a friend : 

'' As ]Mo-ses Hf-ted up the ser pent in the wil-der-ness — 
ah ! e-v-e-n so must the Son of M-a-n be lif-ted up — ah ! That 
who so-e-v-e-r look up-on him — ah ! m-a-y not p-e-ri-s-h — 
ah! but h-a-ve e-v-e-r-1-a-sting 1-i-f-e— ah !" 

Notwithstanding this halting delivery, these old men laid 
the foundation of the refined and elegant society now en- 
joyed in Kentucky. 

Tom Fairfield wished to improve his fortune and posi- 
tion in society — pay for preaching was small — but the many 
little needs of a fam'.ly frequently fell to the lot of a preach- 
er's wife. With this object in view, and waiting for the call, 
Tom and his wife attended all the meetings. A wonderful 
pheno?nenon occurred about this time, that upset all of Tom's 
calculations — it was called i\iQ Jerks, It was principally con- 
fined to the females — but men sometimes were victims of it. 

During the church service, and generally about the time 
the preacher's earnestness had warmed the congregation, the 
jerks would set in. Some one in the congregation would 
commence throwing the head and upper part of the body 
backward and forward, the motion would gradually in- 
crease, assuming a spasmodic appearance, until all discretion 
would leave the person attacked, and they would continue 
to jerk regardless of all modesty, until they Jerked themselves 
upon the floor. 

Tom and his wife one day attended the meeting of a 
sect, then called the " New Lights.'' During the service Tom's 
wife was attacked with Xhe Jerks; the motion slow at first be- 
came very rapid, her combs flew among the congregation, 



PEN PICTURES. 33 

and her long black hair cracked like a wagon whip. Tom 
was very much frightened, but with the assistance of some 
friends the poor woman was taken home, and soon became 
quiet. Tom never attended meeting again. 

The old adage that bad luck never comes single-handed, 
was now setting in with Tom. Soon after this event, Tom 
returned from his labor one cold, wet evening. Mother, as 
he always called his wife, v/as very dull and stupid. Tom 
had attended to all the duties of the little household, pulled 
in the latch-string of the cabin door, covered the coals on 
the hearth with ashes — as the old people used to say, to keep 
the seed of fire. 

In the morning when he awakened, his faithful wife, 
dear mother, as he called, her, was by his side, cold and dead. 

With three litde daughters in the cabin and nothing else 
in the wide world, for the title to his land had been set aside. 
Disheartened with his misfortunes, Tom, with his little daugh- 
ters, moved to the Ohio river. 

Port William was the name given to the first settlement 
ever made at the mouth of the Kentucky river. 

Seventy miles above Louisville the Kentucky mingles its 
water with the Ohio river, the land on the east side of the 
Kentucky and on the south side of the Ohio, narrows into a 
sharp point — the water is deep up to the shore. When navi- 
gation first commenced this point was the keel-boat landing, 
and subsequently the steamboat landing. 

Here, Dave Deminish kept a saloon, (then called a gro- 
cery). One room sixteen feet square, filled with cheap John 
merchandise, the principal article for sale was corn whisky, 
distilled in the upper counties, and shipped to Port William 
on keel boats, — this article was afterwards called old Bourbon. 

Port William was blessed with the O !-be-joyful. Red- 
head Sam Sims run a whisky shop in connection with his 
tavern, but the point, or landing was the great place of at- 



34 PEN PICTURES. 

traction, here idle boatmen were always ready to entertain 
idle citizens. Old Brother Demitt owned large tracts of 
land, and a number of slaves, and of course he was a leader 
in society, why not ? he was a member of the church if he 
did stand on the street corners, tell low anecdotes, and drink 
whisky all-day-long. And old Arch Wheataker owned slaves 
to work for him, and he, of course, could ride his old ball- 
face sorrel horse to Port William, drink whisky all day and 
run old Ball home at night. Late in December one dark 
night, the Angel of observation was looking into the room of 
Dave Deminish. A tall man with silver gray hair was pleading 
with Dave for one more dram. They stood by the counter 
alone, and it was late, the customers had all gone save Tom 
Fairfield. Tom offered to pledge his coat as a guarantee for 
payment, Dave was anxious to close the store (as he called 
it), and he said mildly as he laid his hand softly on Tom's 
shoulder, "Keep your coat on, Tom," and handing him a 
glass of spoiled beer, affected friendship. In attempting to 
drink the beer Tom heaved. Dave was insulted, and kicked 
him out, and closed the door. On reeling feet, alone, and 
in the dark, Tom departed. In the middle of the night com- 
menced a wonderful snow storm, and the dawn of morning 
found the earth covered with a white mantle twenty-four 
inches deep. 

The ever diligent eye of the Angel of observation was 
peering into the cabin of Tom Fairfield, two miles distant 
from the Foifit^ and one mile north of Brother Demitts. 
Roxie, the eldest daughter, found a few sticks of wood, 
which happened to be in doors, made up a little fire and was 
cooking some corn cakes. Rose had covered Suza with a 
tattered blanket, and w^s rocking her m a trough. The cold 
wind upon the outside carried away the maudible murmurs 
of the little sisters. 

At one o'clock in the evening the little fire had burned 



PEN PICTURES. 35 

out. Rose was still engaged with the baby, and Roxie pass- 
ed the time between childish conversations with Rose about 
the deep snow, and their absent father, who she said would 
get the snow out of his way and come home after a while, 
then peeping out the crack of the door to watch for some 
one passing. Old Father Tearful had passed the cabin, his. 
face and head wrapped up with a strap of sheepskin to A?.:ard 
off the cold, and he did not hear the cries of Roxie Fairfield. 
One hour later Suza was crying piteously and shivering with 
the cold. 

Roxie said firmly to Rose, you pet and coax the poor 
thing and I will go to Aunt Katy's and get some one to come 
and, and get us some wood, making a great effort to conceal 
a half suppressed sob, and a starting tear. Then patting 
Rose on the head with her little hand said coaxingly, '^Be 
good to-to-the baby, and I'll soon be back.'* Leaving both 
little sisters in tears, and pulling her httle bonnet close 'round 
her ears, she left the cabin, and struggled bravely through 
the deep snow ; fortunately when she gained the track of 
Father Tearful' s horse she had less difficulty. The old man 
was riding a Conestoga horse whose feet and legs, from their 
large size, made quite an opening in the snow. 

The Angel eye of observation peering into the east room 
of Brother Demitt's house, (he lived in a double cabin of 
hewn logs,) saw Aunt Katy sittting on one corner of the 
hearth-stone, busily plying her fingers upon a half finished 
stocking ; upon the other corner lay a large dog ; stretched 
at full length ; half way between the two sat the old house-cat, 
eying the mastiff and the mistress, and ready to retreat from 
the first invader. The hickory logs in the fire-place were 
wrapping each other with the red flames of heat, and the cold 
wind rushing 'round the corner of the house was the only 
sound that disturbed the stillness of the hour. 

With a sudden push the door swung upon its hinges, 



36 PEN PICTURES, 

and Roxie Fairfield, shivering with the cold, appeared upon 
the stage. Aunt Katy threw her head back, and looking 
under her specs, straight down her nose at the little intruder, 
said, in a voice half mingled with astonishment, "Roxie 
Fairfield, where in the name of heaven did you come from ?" 
Roxie, nothing abashed by the question, replied in a plain- 
tive tone, '' Daddy didn't come home all night nor all day — 
and — and we're 'fraid the baby'U freeze." The simple narra- 
tive of the child told Aunt Katy the w/iok story. She knew 
Tom Fairfield, and although a drunkard, he would not thus 
desert his children. " Come to the fire, child/' said Aunt 
Katy in a milder tone, and as she turned to the back d or 
she said, mentally, ^^dead^ and covered with snow'' She contin- 
ued, "Joe, I say, Joe, get old Ned and hitch him to the 
wood slide, and go after the Fairfield children — quick— o-iW. 
Dick to help hitch up. " Dick was an old negro who had 
the gout so bad in his left foot that he could not wear a 
shoe, and that foot wrapped up in a saddle blanket, made an 
impression in the snow about the size of an elephant's track. 

Roxie made a start to return as she came, and while 
Aunt Katy was coaxing and persuading her to wait for the 
slide, Joe, a colored boy, and old Ned were gotten ready for 
the venture. Dick, by Aunt Katy's directions, had thrown 
a straw bed upon the sHde, and bearing his weight upon his 
right foot, he caught Roxie by the arms and carefully placed 
her upon it. 

Joe, as he held the rope-reins in one hand and a long 
switch in the other, turned his eyes upon the face of 
the little heroine, all mingled with doubt and fear, saying in 
a harsh tone, ''keep yourself in the middle of the slide, 
puss, for I'm gwine to drive like litenin'." 

Aunt Katy stood in the cold door gazing at the running 
horse and slide until they were out of sight, and then turning 
to Dick who, standing by the chimney, was holding his left 



PEN PICTURES. 37 

foot close to the coals, said, "Tom Fairfield is dead and 
under the snow, poor soul ! and them children will have to 
be raised, and I'll bet the nittin' of five pair of stockins that 
old Demitt will try to poke one of 'em on me." 

Joe soon returned with the precious charge. He had 
Suza, the baby, in her rocking trough, well wrapped up in 
the old blanket and placed in the middle of the slide, with 
Roxie seated on one side and Rose on the other. The slide 
had no shafts by which the old horse could hold it back • it 
was Dick's office to hold back with a rope when drawing 
wood, but he was too slow for this trip, and Joe's long switch 
served to keep old Ned ahead of the slide when traveling 
down hill. 

A large fire and a warm room, with Aunt Katy's pacify- 
ing tones of voice, soon made the little sisters comparatively 
happy ; she promised them that daddy would soon return. 

The news soon spread through the neighborhood, and 
every one who knew Tom Fairfield solemnly testified that he 
would not desert his children; the irresistible conclusion 
was that while intoxicated he was frozen, and that he lay 
dead under the snow. 

A council of the settlers, (for all were consideped neigh- 
bors for ten miles 'round,) was called, over which Brother 
Demitt presided. Aunt Katy, as the nearest neighbor and 
first benefactress, claimed the pre-emption right to the first 
choice, which was of course granted. Roxie, the eldest, 
was large enough to perform some service in a family, and 
Rose would soon be ; Suza, the baby, was the trouble. 
Aunt Katy was called upon to take her choice before other 
preliminaries could be settled. 

Suza, the baby, with her bright little eyes, red cheeks 
and proud efforts, to stand alone, had won Aunt Katy's 
affections, and she, without any persuasion on the part of 



38 PEN PICTURES. 

old Demitt, emphatically declared that Suza should never 
leave her house until she left it as a free woman. 

Mrs. Evaline Estep and Aunt Fillis Foster were the con- 
tending candidates for Rose and Roxie. 

Brother Demitt decided that Aunt Fillis should take 
Roxie, and Mrs. Estep should be foster mother to Rose, with 
all the effects left in the Fairfield cabin. 

These ladies lived four miles from the Demitt house, in 
different directions. With much persuasion and kind treat- 
ment they bundled up the precious little charges and de- 
parted. 

While the Angel of sorrow hovered 'round the little 
hearts of the deparated sisters. 




SCENE FOURTH — ROXIE DAYMON AND ROSE 

SIMON. 

The road of life is light and dark, 
Each journeyman will make his mark ; 
; The mark is seen by all behind, 

Excepting those who go stark blind. 
Men for women mark out the way, 
In spite of all the rib can say ; 
But when the way is rough and hard. 
The woman's eye will come to guard 
The footsteps of her liege and lord, 
With gentle tone and loving word. 

Since the curtain fell upon the closing sentence in the 
last scene, many long and tedious seasons have passed away. 

The placid waters of the beautiful Ohio have long since 
been disturbed by steam navigation ; and the music of the 
steam engine echoing from the river hills have alarmed the 
bat and the owl, and broke the solitude around the graves of 
many of the first settlers. Many old associations have Hved 
and died. The infant images of the early setders are men 
and women. In the order of time Roxie Fairfield, the hero- 
ine of the snow s-torm, and Aunt Fillis Foster, claim our 
attention. 

With a few back glances at girlhood, we hasten on to 
her womanhood. Aunt Fillis permitted Roxie to attend a 
country school a few months in each year. The school house 
was built of round logs, was twenty feet square, with one log 



40 



PEN PICTURES. 



left out on the south side for a window. The seats were 
made of slabs from the drift wood on the Ohio River, (the 
first cut from the log, one side flat, the other having the shape 
of the log, rounding) ; holes were bored in the slabs and pins 
eighteen inches long inserted for legs. These benches were 
set against the wall of t'.ie room, and the pupils arranged 
sitting in rows around the room. In the center sat the teacher 
by a little square table, with a switch long enough to reach 
any pupil in the house without rising from his seat. And 
thus the heroine of the snow storm received the rudiments of 
an education, as she grew to womanhood. 

Roxie was obedient, tidy — and twenty, and like all girls 
cf her class, had a lover. Aunt Filli'S said Roxie kept every- 
thing about the house in the right place, and was always in 
the right place herself; she said more, she could not keep 
house without her. By what spirit Aunt FiUis was animated 
we shall not undertake to say, but she forbade Roxie's lover 
the prerogative of her premises. 

Roxie's family blood could never submit to slavery, and 
she ran away with her lover, was married according to the 
common law, which recognizes man and wife as one, and the 
man is that one. 

They went to Louisville, and the reader has already 
been introduced to the womanhood of Roxie Fairfield in the 
person of Daymen's wife. 

The reader is referred to the closing sentence of Scene 
First. Daymen was granted a new trial, which never came 
off, and the young couple left Louisville and went to Chicago, 
Illinois. Roxie had been concealed by a femalje friend, and 
only learned the fate of Daymon a few minutes before she 
entered the court room. Daymon resolved to reform, for 
when future hope departed, and all but life had fled, the 
faithful Roxie rose like a spirit from the dead to come and 
stand by hmi. 



PEN PICTURES, 41 

Daymon and Roxie left Louisville without any intima- 
tion of their destination to any one, without anything to pay 
expenses, and nothing but their wearing apparel, both re- 
solved to work, for the sun shone as brightly upon them as 
it did upon any man and woman in the world. 

As a day laborer Daymon worked in and around the in- 
fant city, as ignorant of the bright future as the wild ducks 
that hovered 'round the shores of the lake. 

It is said that P. J. Marquette, a French missionary from 
Canada, was the first white man that settled on the spot where 
Chicago now stands. This was before the war of the Revo- 
lution, and his residence was temporary. 

Many years afterward a negro from San Domingo made 
some improvements at the same place ; but John Kinzie is 
generally regarded as the first settler at Chicago, for he made 
a permanent home there in 1804. For a quarter of a cen- 
tury the village had less than one hundred inhabitants. A 
wild onion that grew there, called by the Indians Chikago,. 
gave the name to the city. 

After a few years of hard labor and strict economy, a 
land-holder was indebted to Daymon the sum of one hun- 
dred and fifty dollars. . Daymon wished to collect his dues 
and emigrate farther west. By the persuasion of Roxie he 
was induced to accept a deed to fifteen acres of land. In a 
short time he sold one acre for more than the cost of the 
whole tract, and was soon selling by the foot instead of the 
acre. The unparalleled growth of the city made Daymon 
rich in spite of himself. 

The ever wakeful eye of the Angel of observation is 
peering into the parlor of the Daymon palace^ to see Roxie 
surrounded with all the luxuries of furniture, sitting by an 
ornamented table, upon which lay gilt-edged paper; in the 
center of the table sat a pearl ink-stand and a glass ornament 
set with variegated colors. Roxie's forehead rested upon the 



42 PEN PICTURES. 

palm of her left hand, elbow on the table. Profound reflec- 
tions are passing through her brain ; they carry her back to 
the days of her childhood. Oh, how she loved Suza ; the 
little bright eyes gazed upon her and the red lips pronounced 
the inaudible sound, ''•dear sister.''^ ''Yes, I will write," said 
Roxie, mentally. She takes the gold pen in her right hand, 
adjusting the paper with her left, she paused to thank from 
the bottom of her heart old Ben Robertson, who in the coun- 
try school had taught her the art of penmanship. Hush! did 
the hall bell ring ? In a few minutes a servant appeared at 
the door and announced the name of Aunt Patsy Perkins. 

'' Admit Aunt Patsy — tell her your mistress is at home," 
said Roxie, rising from the table. 

Aunt Patsy Perkins was floating upon the surface of 
upper-tendom in Chicago. She understood all of the late 
styles ; a queen in the drawing-room, understood the art pre- 
cisely of entertaining company; the grandest ladies in the 
fcity would listen to the council of Aunt Patsy, for she could 
talk faster and more of it than any woman west of the Alle- 
ghany Mountains. 

The visitor enters the room; Roxie oflers Aunt Patsy 
an easy chair ; Aunt Patsy is wiping away the perspiration 
with a fancy kerchief, in one hand, and using the fan with the 
other. When seated she said : 

" I must rest a little, for I nave something to tell you, 
and I will tell you now what it is before I begin. Old Per- 
kins has no more love for style than I have for his dratted poor 
kin. But as I was going to tell you, Perkins received a letter 
from Indiana, stating this Cousin Sally wished to make us a 
visit. She's a plain, poor girl, that knows no more of style 
than Perkins does of a woman's comforts. I'll tell you what 
it is, Mrs. Daymon, if she does come, if I don't make it hot 
for old Perkins, it'll be because I can't talk. A woman has ' 
nothing but her tongue, and while I live I will use mine."^ 



PEN PICTURES. 43 

Then pointing her index finger at Roxie, continued : "I will 
tell you what it is Mrs. Daymon, take two white beans out 
of one hull, and place them on the top of the garden fence, 
and then look at 'em across the garden, and if you can tell 
which one is the largest, you can seen what difference there is 
in the way old Perkins hates style and I hate his dratted poor 
kin. What wealthy families are to do in this city, God only 
knows. I think sometimes old Perkins is a wooden man, for, 
with all my style, I can make no more impression on h-i-m, 
than I can upon an oak stump, Mrs. Daymon. What if he 
did make a thousand dollars last week, when he wants to 
stick his poor kin 'round me, like stumps in a flower garden." 

At this point Roxie ventured to say a word. '*Aunt 
Patsy, I thought Jim was kinsfolk on your side of the house." 

''Yes, but honey, I am good to Jim, poor soul, he 
knows it," said Aunt Patsy gravely, and then she paused. 

Jim was a poor boy, eighteen years old, and the son of 
Aunt Patsy's dear brother, long since laid under the dark 
green sod of Indiana. The poor boy, hearing of the wealth 
of his Aunt Patsy, had come to Chicago and was working on 
the streets, poorly clad. 

Aunt Patsy would sometimes give him a few dollars, as 
you would throw a bone to a dog, requesting him at the same 
time to always come to the back door, and never be about 
the house when she had company. 

Aunt Patsy said emphatically, as she left the Daymon 
palace, 'Til tell } ou what it is, Mrs. Daymon, I'm goin' 
home to study human nature, and if I don't find some avenue 
to reach old Perkins, I shall take the liberty to insult the first 
one of his dratted poor kin that sets foot in my house." 

After Aunt Patsy left, Roxie thought no more of her 
letter of inquiry, and company engaged her attention for 
some days until the subject passed entirely out of her mind. 

Soon after these events Roxie died with the cholera — 



44 



PEN PICTURES. 



leaving an only daughter — and was buried as ignorant of the 
fate of her sister as the stone that now stands upon her grave. 

We must now turn back more than a decade, which 
brings us to the burning of the steamboat Brandywine, on 
the Mississippi river. The boat was heavily freighted, with 
a large number of passengers on board; the origin of the 
fire has never been positively known ; it was late in the night, 
with a heavy breeze striking the boat aft, where the fire oc- 
curred. In a short time all on board was in confusion ; the 
pilot, from the confusion of the moment, or the lack of a 
proper knowledge of the river, headed the boat for the wrong 
shore, and she ran aground on a deep sand bar a long way 
from shore and burned to the waters' edge; between the two 
great elements of fire and water many leaped into the river 
and were drowned, and some reached the shore on pieces of 
the wreck. Among those fortunate enough to reach the 
shore was an Englishman, who was so badly injured he was 
unable to walk ; by the more fortunate he was carried to the 
cabin of a wood cutter, where he soon after died. 

When he fully realized the situation he called for ink and 
paper; there was none on the premises; a messenger -was 
dispatched to the nearest point where it was supposed the 
articles could be obtained, but he was too late. When the 
last moments came the dying man made the following state- 
ment: '*My name is John A. Lasco. I have traveled for 
three years in this country without finding the slightest trace 
of the object of my search — an only and a dear sister. Her 
name is Susan Lasco; with our father she left the old coun- 
try many years ago. They were poor — the family fortune 
being held in abeyance by the loss of some papers. I re- 
mained, but our father gave up all hope and emigrated to 
America, taking Susan with him. lu the course of nature 
the old man is dead, and my sister Susan, if she is living, is 
the last, or soon wih be the last, link of the family. I am 



PEN PICTURES. 45 

making this statement as my last will and testament. Some 
years ago the post-master in my native town received a letter 
from America stating that by the confession of one, Alonzo 
Phelps, who was condemned to die, that there was a bundle 
of papers concealed in a certain place by him before he left 
the country. Search was made and the papers found which 
gave me the possession of the family estate. The letter was 
subscribed D. C, which gave a poor knowledge of the writer. 
I sold the property and emigrated to this country in search 
of my sister; I have had poor success. She probably mar- 
ried, and the ceremony changed her name, and I fear she is 
hopelessly lost to her rights ; her name was Susan Lasco — 
Avhat it is now, God only knows. But to Susan Lasco, and 
her descendants, I will the sum of twenty thousand dollars, 
now on deposit in a western bank ; the certificate of deposit 
names the bank ; the papers are wet and now upon my per- 
son ; the money in my pocket, $i lo, I will to the good woman 
of this house — with a request that she will carefully dry and 
preserve my papers, and deliver them to some respectable 
lawyer in Memphis — at this point the speaker was breathing 
liard — his tone of voice almost inaudible. At his request, 
made by signs, he was turned over and died in a few moments 
without any further directions. 

The inmates of the cabin, besides the good woman of 
the house, were only a few wood cutters, among whom stood 
Brindle Bill, of Shirt-Tail Bend notoriety. Bill, to use his 
own language, was sirafd^ and was chopping wood at this 
point to raise a little money upon which to make another 
start. Many years had passed away since he left Shirt Tail 
Bend. He had been three times set on shore, from steam- 
boats, for playing sharp tricks at three card monte upon 
passengers, and he had gone to work, which he never did 
until he was entirely out of money. Brindle Bill left the 
cabin, ostensibly to go to work ; but he sat upon the log, rub- 



46 PEN PICTURES. 

bed his hand across his forehead, and said mentally, **Su-san 
La-s-co. By the last card in the deck, that is the name; if I 
didn't hear Simon's wife, in Shirt-Tail Bend, years ago, say 
her mother's name was S-u-s-a-n L-a-s-c-o. I will never play 
another game; and^and /zt'^/z/y thousand in bank. By hell, 
I've struck a lead." 

The ever open ear of the Angel of observation was 
catching the sound of a conversation in the cabin of Sundown 
Hill in Shirt-Tail Bend. It was as'follows— 

"Many changes. Bill, since you left here; the Carlo 
wood yard has play'd out ; Don Carlo went back to Kentucky. 
I heard he was blowed up on a steamboat; if he ever come 
down again I did'nt hear of it." 

" Hope he never did," said Bill, chawing the old grudge 
with his eye teeth. 

Hill continued : ''You see, Bill, the old wood yards have 
given place to plantations. Simon, your old friend, is making 
pretentions to be called a planter," said Sundown Hill to 
Brindle Bill, in a tone of confidence. 

''Go slow. Hill, there is a hen on the nest. I come 
back here to play a strong game ; twenty thousand in bank," 
and Brindle Bill winked with his right eye, the language of 
which is, I deal and you play the cards I give you. "You 
heard of the burning of the Brandywine; well, there was an 
Englishman went up in that scrape, and he left twenty thou- 
sand in bank, and Rose Simon is the heir^^^ said Bill in a 
tone of confidence. 

"And what can that profit y-o-u?" said Hill rather 
indignantly. 

"I am playing this game, I want you to send for 
Sim®n," said Bill rather commandingly. 

" Simon has changed considerably since you saw him; 
and, besides, fortunes that come across the water seldom 
prove true. Men who have fortunes in their native land 



PEN PICTURES. 47 

seldom seek fortunes in a strange country," said Hill argn- 
mentatively. 

"There is no mistake in this case, for uncle John had 
the di-dapper eggs in his pocket," said Bill firmly. 

Late that evening three men, in close council, were seen 
in Shirt-Tail Bend. S. S. Simon had joined the company of 
the other two. After Brindle Bill had related to Smion the 
events above described, the following questions and answers 
passed between the two: 

" Mrs. Simon's mother was named Susan Lasco?" 

" Undoubtedl> ; ana her father's name was Tom Fair 
field. She is the brave woman who broke up, or rather 
burned up, the gambling den in Shirt-Tail Bend. We were 
married in Tennessee. Mrs. Simon was the adopted daughter 
of Mrs. Evaline Estep, her parents having died when she 
was quite young. The old lady Estep tried to horn me off; 
but I beat her. Well the old christian woman gave Rose a 
good many things, among which was a box of family keep 
sakes ; she said they were given to her in consideration of 
her taking the youngest child of the orphan children. There 
may be something in that box to identify the family." 

At this point Brindle Bill winked his right eye — it is my 
deal, you play the cards I give you. As Simon was about to 
leave the company, to break the news to his wife, Brindle 
Bill said to him very confidentially : "You find out in what 
part of the country this division of the orphan children took 
place, and whenever you find that place, be where it will, 
right there is where I was raised — the balance of them child- 
ren is dead^ Simon," and he again winked his right eye. 

"I understand," said Simon, and as he walked on 
towards home to apprise Rose of her good fortune, he said 
mentally, "This is Bill's deal, I will play the cards he gives 
me." Simon was a shifty man; he stood in the half-way 
house between the honest m^n and the rogue ; was always 



48 PEN PICTURES. 

ready to take anything he could lay hands on, as long as he 
could hold some one else between himself and danger. Rose 
Simon received the news with delight. She hastened to her 
box of keepsakes and held before Simon's astonished eyes an 
old breast-pin with this inscription: ''Presented to Susan 
Lasco by her brother, John A. Lasco, 1751." " That's all 
the evidence we want," said Simon emphatically. ** Now," 
continued Simon, c*axingly, " What became of your sisters ?" 

''You know when Mrs. Estep moved to Tennessee I 
was quite small. I have heard nothing of my sisters since 
that time. It has been more than fifteen years," said Rose 
grave ly. 

" At what point in Kentucky were youseparated?" said 
Simon inquiringly. 

" Port WilUam, the mouth of the Kentucky river," said 
Rose plainly. 

" Brindle Bill says they are dead," said Simon slowly. 

"Br-i-n-d-1 e B-i-1-1, why, I would not beheve him on 
oath," said Rose indignantly. 

" Yes, bnt he can prove it," said Simon triumphantly, 
and he then continued, " If we leave any gaps down, my 
dear, we will not be able to draw the money until those 
sisters are hunted up, and then it would cut us down to less 
than seven thousand dollars — and that would hardly build us 
a fine house," and with many fair and coaxing words Simon 
obtained a promise from Rose that she would permit him to 
manage the business. 

At the counter of a western bank stood S. S. Simon and 
party presenting the certificate of deposit for twenty thousand 
dollars. In addition to the breast-pin Rose had unfolded an 
old paper, that had laid for years m the bottom of her box. 
It was a certificate of the marriage of Tom Fairfield and 
Susan Lasco. Brindle Bill and Sundown Hill were sworn 
and testified that Rose Simon alias Rose Fairfield was the 



PEN PICTURES. 49 

only surviving child of Tom Fairfield and Susan Lasco. 
Brindle Bill said he was raised in Port William, and was at 
the funeral of the little innocent years before. The money 
was paid over. Rose did not believe a word that Bill said 
but she had promised Simon that she would let him manage 
the business, and few people will refuse money when it is 
thrust upon them. 

The party returned to Shirt-Tail Bend. Simon deceived 
Rose with the plea of some little debts, paid over to Brindle 
Bill and Sundown Hill three hundred dollars each. Brindle 
Bill soon got away with three hundred dollars; '' Strop' d 
again," he said mentally, and then continued, " Some call 
it blackmailin' or backmailin', but I call it a back-handed 
game. It is nothing but making use of power, and if a fellow 
don't use power when it's put in his hands he had better 
bunch taols and quit. 

Brindle Bill said to S. S. Simon, " I have had a streak 
of bad luck ; lost all my money ; want to borrow three hun- 
dred dollars. No use to say you havn't got it, for I can find 
them sisters of your wife in less than three weeks," and he 
winked his right eye. 

Simon hesitated, but finally with many words of caution 
paid over the money. 

Soon after these events S. S. Simon was greatly reheved 
by reading in a newspaper the account of the sentence of 
Brindle Bill to the state prison for a long term of years. 

S. S. Simon now stood in the front rank of the planters 
of his neighborhood ; had built a new house and ready to 
furnish it ; Rose was persuaded by him to make the trip 
with him to New Orleans and select her furniture for the 
new house. While in the city Rose Simon was attacked with 
the yellow fever and died on the way home. She was buried 
in Louisiana, intestate and childless. 



SCENE FIFTH.— THE BELLE OF PORT WILLIAM. 

A cozy room, adorned with maiden art, 
Contained the belle of Port William's heart. 
There she stood — to blushing love unknown, 
Her youthful heart was a!! her own. 
Her sisters gone, and every kindred tie, 
Alone she smiled, alone she had to cry ; 
No mother's smile, no father's kind reproof, 
She hop'd and pray'd beneath a stranger's roof. 

The voice of history and the practice of historians has 
been to dwell upon the marching of armies; the deeds of 
great heroes ; the rise and fall of governments ; great battles 
and victories ; the conduct of troops, etc. , while the manners 
and customs of the people of whom they write are entirely 
ignored. 

Were it not for the common law of England, we would 
have a poor knowledge of the manners and customs of the 
English people long centuries ago. 

The common law was founded upon the manners and 
customs of the people, and many of the principles of the 
common law have come down to the present day. And a care- 
ful study of the common laws of England is the best guide 
to English civilization long centuries ago. 

Manners and customs change with almost every genera- 
tion, yet the principles upon which our manners and customs 
are founded are less changeable. 

Change is marked upcn almost everything It is said 



PEN PICTURES. 51 

that the particles which compose our bodies change in every 
seven years. The oceans and continents change in a long 
series of ages. Change is one of the universal laws of matter. 

And like everything else, Port William changed. Brother 
Demitt left Port William, on foot and full of whisky, oue cold 
evening in December. The path led him across a field 
fenced from the suburbs of the village. The old man being 
unable to mount the fence, sat down to rest with his back 
against the fence — here it is supposed he- fell into a stupid 
sleep. The cold north wind — that never ceases to blow be- 
cause some of Earth's poor children are intoxicated — wafted 
away the spirit of the old man, and his neighbors, the next 
morning, found the old man sitting against the fence, frozen, 
cold and dead. 

Old Arch Wheataker, full of whisky, was running old 
Ball for home one evening in the twilight. Old Ball, fright- 
ened at something by the side of the road, threw the old man 
against a tree, and "busted" his head. 

Dave Deminish had retired from business and given 
place to the brilliantly lighted saloon. Old Dick, the negro 
man, was sleeping beneath the sod, with as little pain in his 
left foot as any other member of his body. Joe, the colored 
boy that drove the wood slide so fast through the snow with 
the little orphan girls, had left home, found his way to Cana- 
da, and was enjoying his freedom in the Queen's Dominion. 

The Demitt estate had passed through the hands of ad- 
ministrators much reduced. Old Demitt died intestate, and 
Aunt Katy had no children. His relations inherited his es- 
tate, except Aunt Katy's life interest. But Aunt Katy had 
money of her own, earned with her own hands. 

Aunt Katy was economical and industrious. Every dry 
goods store in Port William was furnished with stockings knit 
by the hands of Aunt Katy. The passion to save in Aunt 
Katy's breast, like Aaron's serpent, swallowed up the rest. 



52 PEN PICTURES. 

Aunt Katy was a good talker — except of her own con- 
cerns, upon which she was non-committal. She kept her 
own counsel and her own money. It was supposed by the 
Demitt kinsfolk that Aunt Katy had a will filed away, and 
old Ballard, the administrator, was often interrogated by the 
Demitt kinsfolk about Aunt Katy's will. Old Ballard was a 
cold man of business — one that never thought of anything 
that did not pay him — and, of course, sent all will-hunters to 
Aunt Katy. 

The Demitt relations indulged in many speculations 
about Aunt Katy's money. Some counted it by the thousand, 
and all hoped to receive their portion when the poor old 
woman slept beneath the sod. 

Aunt Katy had moved to Port William, to occupy one 
of the best houses in the village, in which she held, a life es- 
tate. Aunt Katy's household consisted of herself and Suza 
Fairfield, eleven years old, and it was supposed by the Demitt 
relations, that when Aunt Katy died, a will would turn up in 
favor of Suza Fairfield. 

Tom Ditamus had moved from the backwoods of the 
Cumberland mountains to the Ohio river, and not pleased 
with the surroundings of his adopted locality, made up his 
mind to return to his old home. Tom had a wife and two 
dirty children. Tom's wife was a pussy-cat woman, and 
obeyed all of Tom's commands without ever stopping to 
think on the subject of "woman's rights." Tom was a sulky 
fellow; his forehead retreated from his eyebrows, at an angle 
of forty-five degrees, to the top of his head; his skull had a 
greater distance between the ears than it had fore and aft' ; a 
dark shade hung in the corner of his eye, and he stood six 
feet above the dirt with square shoulders. Tom was too 
great a coward to steal, and too lazy to work. Tom intended 
to return to his old home in a covered wagon drawn by an 
ox team. 



PEN PICTURES. 53 

The Demitt relations held a council, and appomted one 
of their number to confer with Tom Ditamus and engage him 
to take Suza Fairfield — with his family and in his wagon — 
to the backwoods of the Cumberland Mountains. For, they 
said, thus spirited away Aunt Katy would never hear from 
her; and Aunt Katy's money, when broken loose from where 
she was damming it up, by the death of the old thing would 
flow in its legitimate channel. 

And the hard-favored and the hard-hearted Tom agreed 
to perform the job for ten dollars. 

It was in the fall of the year and a foggy morning. 
When the atmosphere is heavy the cold of the night produces 
a mist by condensing the dampness of the river, called fog ; 
it is sometimes so thick, early in the morning, that the eye 
cannot penetrate it more than one hundred yards. 

Tom was ready to start, and fortunately for him, seeing 
Suza Fairfield passing his camp, he approached her. She 
thought he wished to make some inquiry, and stood still 
until the strong man caught her by the arm, with one hand 
in the other hand he held an ugly gag, and told her if she 
made any noise he would put the bit in her mouth and tie 
the straps on the back of her head. The child made one 
scieam, but as Tom prepared to gag her she submitted, and 
Tom placed her in his covered wagon between his dirty 
children, giving the gag to his wife, and commanding her if 
Suza made the slightest noise to put the bridle on her, and 
in the dense clouds of fog Tom drove his wagon south. 

Suza realized that she was captured, but for what pur- 
pose she could not divine ; with a brave heart — far above her 
years — she determined to make her escape the first night, for 
after that she said, mentally, she would be unable to find 
home. She sat quietly and passed the day in reflection, and 
resolved in her mind that she would leave the caravan of 
Tom Ditamus that nignt, or die in the attempt. She remem- 



54 PEN PICTURES. 

bered the words of Aunt Katy — "Discretion is the better 
part of valor" — and upon that theory the little orphan 
formed her plan. 

The team traveled slow, for Tom was compelled to let 
them rest — in the warm part of the day — the sun at last 
disappeared behind the western horizon. To the unspeakable 
delight of the little prisoner, in a dark wood by the shore of 
a creek, Tom encamped for the night, building a fire by the 
side of a large log. The party in the wagon, excepting 
Suza, were permitted to come out and sit by the fire. While 
Tom's wife was preparing supper, Suza imploringly begged 
Tom to let her come to the fire, for she had something to 
tell him. Tom at last consented, but said cautiously, "you 
must talk low." " Oh! I will talk so easy,'' said Suza, in a 
stage whisper. She was permitted to take her seat with 
the party on a small log, and here for an hour she enter- 
tained them with stories of abuse that she had received from 
the old witch^ Aunt Katy, and emphatically declared that she 
would go anywhere to get away from the old witch. 

The orphan girl, eleven years of age, threw Tom Dita- 
mus, a man thirty-five years of age, entirely off his guard. 
Tom thought he had a soft thing and the whole party were 
soon sound asleep, except Suza. 

With a step as light as a timid cat, Suza Fairfield left 
Tom Ditamus and his family sleeping soundly on the bank of 
the creek in the dark woods, and sped toward Port Wil- 
liam. They had traveled only ten miles with a lazy ox team 
and the active feet of the little captive could soon retrace 
the distance, if she did not lose the way; to make assurance 
doubly sure, Suza determined to follow the Kentucky river, 
for she knew that would take her to Port William; the road 
was part of the way on the bank of the river, but sometimes 
diverged into the hills a considerable distance from the river. 
At those places Suza would follow the river, though her path 



PEN PICTURES. 55 

was through dense woods and in places thickly set with 
underbrush and briars. Onward the brave little girl would 
struggle, until again relieved by the friendly road making its 
appearance again upon the bank of the river, and then the 
nimble little feet would travel at the rate of four miles an 
hour. Again Suza would have to take to the dark woods, with 
no lamp to guide her footsteps but the twinkling distant star. 
In one of these ventures Suza was brought to a stand, by 
the mouth of White's creek pouring its lazy waters into the 
Kentucky river. The water was deep and dark. Suza 
stood and reflected. An owl broke the stillness of the night 
on the opposite side of the creek. The last note of his voice 
seemed to say, come over — over — little gal. Suza sank upon 
the ground and wept bitterly. It is said that the cry of a 
goose once saved Rome. The seemingly taunting cry of the 
owl did not save Suza, but her own good sense taught her 
that she could trace the creek on the south side until she 
would find a ford, and when across the creek retrace it 
back on the north side to the unerrmg river ; and although 
this unexpected fate had perhaps doubled her task, she had 
resolved to perform it. She remembered Aunt Katy's 
words, ''if there is a will, there is a way," and onward she 
sped for two long hours. Suza followed the zigzag course of 
the bewildering creek, and found herself at last in the big 
road stretching up from the water of the creek. She recog- 
nized the ford, for here she had passed in the hateful prison 
wagon, and remembered that the water was not more than 
one foot deep. Suza pulled off her little shoes and waded 
the creek ; when upon the north side she looked at the dark 
woods, on the north bank of the creek, and at the friendly 
road, so open and smooth to her little feet, and said, mental- 
ly, ' ' this road will lead me to Port WilHanl, and I will follow 
it, if Tom Ditamus does catch me; " and Onward she sped. 
The dawn of morning had illuminated the eastern sky, 



56 PEN PICTURES. 

when Suza Fairfield beheld the broad and„«beautiful bottom 
land of the Ohio river. 

No mariner that ever circumnavigated the globe could 
have beheld his starting point with more delight than Suza 
Fairfield beheld the chimneys in Port William. She was 
soon upon the home street, and saw the chimney of Aunt 
Katy's house; no smoke was rising from it as from others; 
everything about the premises was as still as the breath of life 
on the Dead Sea. Suza approached the back yard, the door 
of Aunt Katy's room was not fastened, it turned upon its 
hinges as Suza touched it; Aunt Katy's bed was not tumbled; 
the fire had burned down ; in front of the smoldering coals 
Aunt Katy sat upon her easy chair, her face buried in her 
hands, elbows upon her knees— Suza paused — Aunt Katy 
sleeps ; 2i momeni's reflection, and then Suza laid her tiny 
hand upon the gray head of the sleeping woman, and pro- 
nounced the w^ords, nearest her little heart in a soft, mellow 
tone, '^A-u-n-t K-a-t-y." 

In an instant Aunt Katy Demitt was pressing Suza Fair- 
field close to her old faithful heart. 

Old and young tears were mingled together for a few 
minutes, and then Suza related her capture and escape as we 
have recorded it; at the close of which Suza was nearly out of 
breath. Aunt Katy threw herself upon her knees by the bed- 
side and covered her face with the palms of her hands. Suza 
reflected, and thought of somethijig she had not related, and 
starting toward the old mother with the words on her tongue 
when the Angel of observation placed his finger on her lips, 
with the audible sound oi hush! Aunt Katy's praying. 

Aunt Katy rose from her posture with the words : "I 
understand it all my child; the Demitts want you out of the 
way. Well, if they get the few four pences that I am able 
to scrape together old Katy Demitt will give 'em the last sock 
that she ever expects to knit; forewarned, fore-armed, my 



PEN PICTURES. S7 

child. As for Tom Ditanius, he may go for what he is worth. 
He has some of the Demitt money, no doubt, and I have a 
warning that will last me to the grave. Old Demitt had one 
fault, but God knows his kinsfolk have thousands." 

Aunt Katy took Suza by the hand and led her to the 
hiding place, and Suza Fairfield, for the first time, beheld 
Aunt Katy's money — five hundred dollars in gold and silver 
— and the old fo-ster mother's will, bequeathing all her earthly 
possessions to Suza Fairfield. The will was witnessed by old 
Ballard and old Father Tearful. And from thence forward 
Suza was the only person in the wide world in full possession 
of Aunt Katy Demitt's secrets. Tantalized by her relations. 
Aunt Katy was like a student of botany, confined in the cen- 
ter of a large plain with a single flower, for she doated on 
Suza Fairfield with a love seldom realized by a foster mother. 

Tom Ditamus awoke the next morning (perhaps about 
the time Suza entered Port 'William) and found the little 
prisoner gone. Tom did not care ; he had his money, and 
he yoked up his catde and traveled on. 

We must now look forward more than a decade in order 
to speak of Don Carlo, the hero of Shirt-Tail Bend, whom, in 
our haste to speak of other parties, we left at the half-way 
castle in a senseless condition, on the fatal day of the explo- 
sion of the Red Stone. 

The half-way castle was one of the first brick houses ever 
built on the Ohio river. It had long been the property of 
mfant heirs, and rented out or left unoccupied ; it stood on 
the southern bank of the river about half way between Louis- 
ville and Cincinnati, hence the name of the half-way castle. 
Don Carlo was severely stunned, but not fatally injured ; he 
had sold out in Shirt-Tail Bend, and was returning to the 
home of his childhood when the dreadful accident occured. 
Don had saved a little sum of money with which he had pur- 
chased a sm.all farm in Kentucky, and began to reflect that 



58 PEN PICTURES. 

he was a bachelor. Numerous friends had often reminded 
him that a brave young lady had rushed into the water and 
dragged his lifeless body to the friendly shore, when in a few 
minutes more he would have been lost forever 

Twelve months or more after these events a camp meeting 
was announced to come off in the neighborhood of Port Wil- 
liam. Camp meetings frequently occurred at that day in 
Kentucky. The members of the church, or at least a large 
portion of them, would prepare to camp out and hold a pro- 
tracted meeting. When the time and place were selected 
some of the interested parties would visit the nearest saw mill 
and borrow several wagon loads of lumber, draw it to the 
place selected, which was always in the woods near some 
stream or fountain of water, with the plank placed upon logs 
or stumps, they would erect the stand or pulpit, around the 
same, on three sides at most, they would arrange planks for 
seats by placing them upon logs and stumps ; they would also 
build shanties and partly fill them with straw, upon which 
the campers slept. Fires were kindled outside for cooking 
purposes. Here they would preach and pray, hold prayer 
meetings and love feasts night and day, sometimes for two or 
three weeks. On the Sabbath day the whole country, old 
and young, for ten miles around, would attend the camp 
meeting. 

Don Carlo said to a friend : ' ' I shall attend the camp 
meeting, for I have entertained a secret desire for a long time 
to make the acquaintance of the young lady who it is said 
saved my life from the wreck of the Red Stone." 

The camp meeting will afford the opportunity. It was 
on a Sabbath morning. Don and his friend were standing 
upon the camp ground; the people were pouring in from 
all directions ; two young ladies passed them oYi their way to 
the stand ; one of them attracted Don Carlo's attention, she 
was not a blonde nor a brunette, but half way between the 



PEN PICTURES. 59 

two, inheriting the beauty of each. Don said to his friend ; 
'* There goes the prettiest woman in Arryerica." 

Then rubbing his hand over his forehead, continued ; 
*' You are acquainted with people here, I wish you would 
make some inquiry of that lady's name and family." 

" I thought you was hunting the gitl that pulled you out 
of the river," said his friend, sarcastically. 

" Yes, but I want to know the lady that has just passed 
us," said Don, gravely. 

Love at first sight. Ah ! what is love ? It has puzzled 
mental philosophers of all ages ; and no one has ever told us 
why a man will love one woman above all the balance of 
God's creatures. And then, the strangest secret in the prob- 
lem is, that a third party can see nothing lovable in the wo- 
man so adored by her lord. 

No wonder, the ancient Greeks represented cupid as 
blind. No, they did not represent him as blind, but only 
blind folded, which undoubtedly leaves the impression that 
the love-god may peep under the bandage; and we advise all 
young people to take advantage of that trick — look before 
you love. History has proven that persons of the same tem- 
perament should not marry, for their children are apt to in- 
herit the bad qualities of each parent ; while upon the other 
hand, when opposites marry the children are apt to inherit 
the good qualities of each parent. 

Marriage is the most important step taken in life. When 
a young man goes out into the world to seek fame and for- 
tune the energies of his mind are apt to concentrate upon the 
problem of obtaining a large fortune. The wife is thought 
of as a convenience, the love-god is consulted and fancy rules 
the occasion. Now let me say to all young men, the family 
is the great object of life, ^ou may pile millions together, 
and it is all scattered as soon as you are dead. A man's 
.children are his only living and permanent representatives. 



60 PEN PICTURES, 

You should not therefore consult fancy with regard to fortune 
or other trivial things, but in the name of all the gods, at once 
consult common sense in regard to the family you produce. 

While Don's friend was upon the tour of inquiry to as- 
certain the identity of the handsome young lady, Don sat 
alone upon a log, and said mentally, "A woman may draw 
me out of the sea ten thousand times, and she would never 
look like that young lady. O ! God, who can she be ! Per- 
haps out of my reach." Don's friend returned smiling. 
*' Lucky, lucky," and Don's friend concluded with a laugh. 
" What now?" said Don, impatiently. 

"That lady is the girl that drew Don Carlo out of the 
river, her name is Suza Fairfield, and she is the belle of Port 
William. An orphan girl raised and educated by old Aunt 
Katy Demitt. She has had a number of suitors, but has 
never consented to leave Aunt Katy's house as a free woman." 

When the congregation dispersed in the evening, Don 
Carlo and Suza Fairfield rode side by side toward Port Wil- 
liam. 

The language of courtship is seldom recorded. The 
ever open ear of the Angel of observation, has only furnished 
us with these words : 

" You are old, my liege, slightly touched with gray. Pray 
let me live and with Aunt Katy stay." 

''With old Aunt Katy you shall live my dear, and on 
her silent grave drop a weeping tear." 

We can only speak of Suza Fairfield as we wish to speak 
of all other belles. 

The outward acts of every belle, 

Her inward thoughts reveal; 
And by this rule she tries to tell 

How other people feel. 

It was the neighborhood talk, that Suza Fairfield, the 



PEN PICTURES 61 

belle of Port William, and Don Carlo, the hero of Shirt-Tail 
Bend, were engaged to be married. 

All neighborhoods will talk. Aunt Katy at the table, 
Betsey Green and Cousin Sally ; the meeting and the show ; 
all neighborhoods will talk, for God has made them so. 

Secrets should be kept, but neighbors let them go ; with 
caution on the lip, they let a neighbor know, all secrets here 
below. Some add a little and some take away. Each be- 
lieves his neighbors in everything they say. They hold a 
secret sacred and only tell a friend, and then whisper in the 
ear, Sally told me this and you must keep it dear; when all 
have kept it and every body knows, true or false, they tell it 
as it goes. 




SCENE SIXTH.— THE SECOND GENERATION. 

The son may wear the father's crown, 
When the gray old father's dead ; 
May wear his shoe, and wear his gown. 
But he can never wear his head. 

How few realize that we are so swiftly passing away, 
and giving our places on earth, to new men and women. 

Tramp, tramp, tramp, and on we go, from the cradle to 
the grave, without stopping to reflect, that an old man is 
passing away every hour, and a new one taking his place. 

Like drops of rain, descending upon the mountains, and 
hurrying down to form the great river, running them off to 
the ocean, and then returning in the clouds. The change is 
almost imperceptible. 

New men come upon the stage of life as it were unob- 
served, and old ones pass away in like manner, and thus the 
great river of life flows on. Were the change sudden, and 
all at once, it would shock the philosophy of the human race. 
A few men live to witness the rise and fall of two generations. 
Long years have intervened and the characters portrayed in 
the preceding part of our story, have all passed away. 

Some of their descendants come upon the stage to fight 
the great battle of life. 

Young Simon will first claim our attention ; he is the only 
son of S. S. Simon by a second wife, his mother is dead, and 
Young Simon is heir to a large estate. 

The decade from eighteen hundred and forty to eighteen 



PEN PICTURES. (o'6 

hundred and fifty, is, perhaps, the most interesting decade 
in the history of the settlement and progress of the Western 
States. 

In that era, the great motive power of our modern civili- 
zation, the iron horse and the magnetic telegraph were put 
into successful operation, across the broad and beautiful 
Western States. 

The history of the West and Southwest in the first hall 
of the nineteenth century, is replete with romance, or with 
truth stranger than fiction. The sudden rise of a moneyed 
aristocracy in the West, furnishes a theme for the pen of a 
historian of no mean ability. 

This American aristocracy, diverse from the aristocracy 
of the old world, who stimulated by family pride, preserved 
the history of a long line of ancestors, born to distinction, 
and holding the tenure of office by inheritance, could trace 
the heroic deeds of their fathers back to the dark ages, 
while some of our American aristocrats are unable to give a 
true history of their grandfather. 

In the first half of the nineteeth century the cultivation 
of the cotton plant in the Southern States assumed gigantic 
proportions. The Northern States bartered their slaves for 
money, and the forest of the great Mississippi river fell by 
the ax of the colored man ; salvation from the demons of want 
was preached by the nigger and the mule. 

Young Simon was a cotton planter, inheriting from his 
father four plantations of one thousand acres, and more than 
six hundred slaves. 

Young Simon knew very little of the history of his family, 
and the more he learned of it, the less he wanted to know. 
His father in his lifetime, had learned the history of Roxie 
Daymon alias Roxie Fairfield, up to the time she left Louis- 
ville, and had good reason to believe that Roxie Daymon, or 
her descendants, also Suza Fairfield, or her descendants still 



64 PEN PICTURES. 

survived. But as we have said, S. S. Simon stood in the 
hah'-way-house, between the honest mai-. and the rogue. He 
reflected upon the subject mathematically, as he said mental- 
ly, '^ Twenty thousand dollars and twenty years interest — 
why ! it would break me up ; I wish to die a rich man. 

And onward he strove, seasoned to hardship in early life, 
he slept but little, the morning bell upon his plantations 
sounded its iron notes up and down the Mississippi long be- 
fore daylight every morning, that the slaves might be ready 
to resume their work as soon as they could see. Simon's 
anxiety to die a rich man had so worked upon his feelings for 
twenty years, that he was a hard master and a keen financier. 

The time to die never entered his brain; for it was all 
absorbed with the die rich question. Unexpectedly to him, 
death's white face appeared when least expected, from hard 
work, and exposure, S. S. Simon was taken down with the 
swamp fever ; down — down — down for a few days and then 
the crisis, the last night of his suffering was terrible, the at- 
tending physician and his only son stood by his bedside. All 
night he was delirious, everything he saw was in the shape of 
Roxie Daymon, every movement made about the bed, the 
dying man would cry, '' Take Roxie Daymon away^ 

Young Simon was entirely ignorant of his father's history 
— and the name Roxie Daymon made a lasting impression on 
his brain. Young Simon grew up without being inured to 
any hardships, and his health was not good, for he soon fol- 
lowed his father; during his short life he had everything that 
heart could desire, except a family name and good health, 
the lack of which made him almost as poor as the meanest o^ 
his slaves. 

Young Simon received some comfort in his last days from 
his cousin Caesar. Caesar Simon was the son of the brother 
of S. S. Simon who died in early life, leaving three children 
in West Tennessee. Cousin Caesar was raised by two penni- 



PEN ^^CTURES. 65 

less sisters, whom he always called ''big-sis" and "little-sis." 
*' Big-sis" was so called from being the eldest, and had the 
care of cousin Caesar's childhood. Cousin Caesar manifested 
an imaginary turn of mind in early childhood. He was, one 
day, sitting on his little stool, by the side of the tub in which 
" big-sis " was washing, (for sh^ was a washer-woman,) gazing 
intently upon the surface of the water. "What in the world 
are you looking at C-a-e-s-a-r ? " said the woman, straighten- 
ing up in astonishment. 

''Looking at them bubbles on the suds," said the boy, 
gravely. 

"And what of the bubbles?" continued the woman. 

"I expected to see one of them burst into a 1-o-a-f of 
b-r-e-a-d," said the child honestly. 

" Big-sis " took cousin Caesar to the fire, went to the 
cupboard and cut her last loaf of bread, and spread upon it 
the last mouthful of butter she had in the world, and gave it 
cousin Caesar. 

And thus he received his first lesson of reward for im- 
agination which, perhaps, had something to do with his after 
life. 

Cousin Caesar detested work, but had a disposition to 
see the bottom of everything. No turkey-hen or guinea 
fowl could make a nest that cousin Caesar could not find. 
He grew up mischievous, so much so that "big-sis" would 
occasionally thrash him. He would then run off and live 
with "little-sis" until "little-sis" would better the instruc- 
tion, for she would whip also. He would then run back to 
live with "big-sis." In this way cousin Caesar grew to thir- 
teen years of age — too big to whip. He then went to live 
with old Smith, who had a farm on the Tennessee river, con- 
taining a large tract of land, and who hired a large quantity 
of steam wood cut every season. Rob Roy was one of old 
Smith's wood cutters — a bachelor well advanced in years, he 

5 



()6 PEN PICTURES. 

lived alone in a cabin made of poles, on old Smith's land. 
Hi? sleeping couch was made with three poles, running par- 
allel with the wall of the cabin, and filled with straw. He 
never wore any stockings and seldom wore a coat, winter or 
summer. The furniture in his cabin consisted of a three-leg- 
ged stool, and a pine goods box. His ax was a handsome 
tool, and the only thing he always kept brightly polished. 
He was a good workman at his profession of cutting wood. 
No one knew anything of his history. He was a man that 
seldom talked ; he was faithful to work througn the week, but 
spent the Sabbath day drinking whisky. He went to the 
village every Saturday evening and purchased one gallon of 
whisky, which he carried in a stone jug to his cabin, and 
drank it all himself by Monday morning, when he would be 
ready to go to work again. Old Rob Roy's habits haunted 
the mind of cousm Csesar, and he resolved to play a trick 
'upon the old wood cutter. Old Smith had some hard cider 
to which cousin Caesar had access. One lonesome Sunday 
cousin Caesar stole Roy's jug half full of whisky, poured the 
whisky out, re-filled the jug with cider, and cautiously slipped 
it back into Roy's cabin. On Monday morning Rob Roy 
refused to work, and was very mad. Old Smith demanded 
to know the cause of the trouble. "You can't fool a man 
with cider who loves good whisky,'" said Roy indignantly. 
Old Smith traced the trick up and discharged cousin Caesar. 
At twenty years of age we find Cousin Caesar in Pa- 
ducah, Kentucky, calling himself Cole Conway, in company 
with one Steve Sharp — they were partners — in the game, as 
they called it. In the back room of a saloon, dimly lighted, 
one dark night, another party, more proficient in the sleight 
of hand, had won the last dime in their possession. The 
time had come to close up. The sun had crossed the merid- 
ian on the other side of the globe. Cole Conway ard 
Steve Sharp crawled into an old straw shed, in the suburbs, 



PEN PICTURES. 67 

of the village, and were soon soundly sleeping. The sun 
had silvered the old straw shed when Sharp awakened, and 
saw Conway sitting up, as white as death's old horse. "What 
on earth is the matter, Conway?" said Sharp, inquiringly. 
"I slumbered heavy in the latter end of night, and had a 
brilHant dream, and awoke from it, to realize this old straw 
shed doth effect me," said Conway gravely. ''The dream ! 
the dream ! " demanded Sharp. ' ' I dreamed that we were 
playing cards, and I was dealing out the deck ; the last card 
was mine, and it was very thick. Sharp, it looked like a 
box, and with thumb and finger I pulled it open. In it there 
were three fifty-dollar gold pieces, four four-dollar gold pieces, 
and ten one-dollar gold pieces. I put the money in my 
pocket, and was listening for you to claim half, as you pur- 
chased the cards. You said nothing more than that 'them 
cards had been put up for men who sell prize cards.' I took 
the money out again, when lo, and behold! one of the fifty- 
dollar pieces had turned to a rule about eight inches long, 
hinged in the middle. Looking at it closely I saw small let- 
ters engraved upon it, which 1 was able to read — you know. 
Sharp, I learned to read by spelling the names on steam- 
boats — or that is the way I learned the letters of the alpha- 
bet. The inscription directed me to a certain place, and 
there I would find a steam carriage that could be run on any 
common road where carriages are drawn by horses. We 
went, and found the carriage. It was a beautiful carriage — 
with highly finished box — on four wheels, the box was large 
enough for six persons to sit on the inside. The pilot sat 
upon the top, steering with a' wheel, the engineer, who was 
also fireman, and the engine, sat on the aft axle, behind the 
passenger box. The whole structure was very light, the 
boiler was of polished brass, and sat upon end. The heat 
\vas engendered by a chemical combination of phosphorus 
and tinden The golden rule gave directions how to run the 



68 PEN PICTURES. 

engine — by my directions, Sharp, you was pilot and I was en 
gineer, and we started south, toward my old home. People 
came running out from houses and fields to see us pass I 
saw something on the beautiful brass boiler that looked lik 
a slide door. I shoved it, and it slipped aside, revealing the 
dial of a clock which told the time of day, also by a separate 
hand and figures, told the speed at which the carriage was 
running. On the right hand side of the dial I saw the fig- 
ures 77. They were made of India rubber, and hung upon 
two brass pins. I drew the slide door over the dial except 
when I wished to look at the time of day, or the rate of 
speed at which we were running, and every time I opened 
the door, one of the figure y's had fallen off the pin. I 
would replace it, and again find it fallen off. So I concluded 
it was only safe to run seven miles an hour, and I regulated 
to that speed. In a short time, I looked again, and we 
were running at the rate of fifteen miles an hour. I knew 
that I had not altered the gauge of steam: A hissing sound 
caused me to think the water was getting low in the boiler. 
On my left I saw a brass handle that resembled the handle 
of a pump. I seized it and commenced work. I could hear 
the bubbling of the water. I look down at the dry road, 
and said, mentally, ' no water can come from there.' Oli! 
how I trembled. It so frightened nie that I found myself 
wide awake." 

''Dreams are but eddies in the current of the mind, which 
cut off from reflection's gentle stream, sometimes play strange, 
fantastic tricks. I have tumbled headlong down from high 
and rocky cliff's; cold-blooded snakes have crawled 'round 
my limbs; the v/orms that eat through dead men's flesh, 
have crawled upon my skin, and I have dreamed of trans- 
portation beyond the shores of time. My last night's dream 
hoisted me beyond my hopes, to let me fall and find myself 
in this d old straw shed." "The devil never dream?," 



PEN PICTURES. 69 

said Sharp, coolly, and then continued; "Holy men of old 
dreamed of the Lord, but never of the devil, and to under- 
:and a dream, we must be just to all the world, and to our- 
selves before God." 

"I have a proposition to make to you, Conway? " 

'' Whaf?^' said Conway, eagerly. 

'^If you will tell me in confidence, your true name and 
history, I will give you mine," said Sharp, emphatically. 
^'Agreed," said Conway, and then continued, "as you made 
he proposition give us yours first." 

'•My name is Steve Brindle. My father was called 
Brindle Bill, and once lived in Shirt-Tail Bend, on the Mis- 
sissippi. He died in the state prison. My mother was a 
sister of Sundown Hill, who lived in the same neighborhood. 
J\iy father and mother were never married. So you see, I 
am a come by-chance, and I have been going by chance all 
of my life. Now, I have told you the God's truth, so far as 
I know it. Now make a clean breast of it, Conway, and let 
us hear your pedigree," said Brmdle, confidentially. 

"I was born in Tennessee. My father's name was 
Caesar Simon, and I bear his name. My mother's name was 
Nancy Wade. I do not remember either of them. I was 
partly raised by my sisters, and the balance of the time I 
have tried to raise myself, but it seems it will take me a lonv, 
time to make a raise — " at this point, Brindle interfered u; 
breathless suspense, with the inquiry, '• Did you have an un- 
cle named S. S. Simon?" "I have heard my sister say as 
much," continued Simon. 

"Then your dream is interpreted," said Brindle, em- 
phatically. "Your Uncle, S. S. Simon, has left one of the 
largest estates in Arkansas, and now you are on the steam 
wagon again," said Brindle, slapping his companion on the 
shoulder. 

Brindle had been instructed by his mother, and made 



70 PEN PICTURES. 

Cousin Caesar acquainted with the outline of all the history 
detailed in this narrative, except the history of Roxie Day- 
men alias Roxie Fairfield, in Chicago. 

The next day the two men were hired as hands to go 
down the river on a flat-bottom boat. 

Roxie Daymen, whose death has been recorded, left an 
only daughter, now grown to womanhood, and bearing her 
mother's name. Seated in the parlor of one of the descend- 
ants of Aunt Patsy Perkins, in Chicago, we see her sad, and 
alone; we hear the hall bell ring. A servant announces the 
name of Gov. Morock. ''Show the Governor up," said 
Roxie, sadly. The ever open ear of the Angel of observa- 
tion has only furnished us with the following conversation : 

"Everything is positively lost, madam, not a cent in 
the world. Every case has gone against us, and no appeal, 
madam. You are left hopelessly destitute, and penniless. 
Daymen should have employed me ten years ago — but now, 
it is too late. Everything is gone, madam," and the Gov- 
ernor paused. "My mother was once a poor, penniless 
girl, and I can bear it too," said Roxie, calmly. "But you 
see," said the Governor, softening his voice; "you are a 
handsome young lady; your fortune is yet to be made. For 
fifty dollars, madam, I can fix you up a shadow, that will 
marry you off. You see the law has some loop holes and — 
and in your case, madam, it is no haras to take one ; no 
harm, no harm, madam," and the Governor paused again. 
Roxie looked at the man sternly, and said: "I have no 
further use for a lawyer. Sir." "Any business hereafter, 
madam, that you may wish transacted, send your card to 
No. 77, Strait street," and the Governor made a side move 
toward the door, touched the rim of his hat and disappeared. 

It was in the golden month of October, and calm, 
smoky days of Indian summer, that a party of young people 
living in Chicago, made arrangements for a pleasure trip to 



PEN PICTURES. 71 

New Orleans. There were four or five young ladies in the 
party, and Roxie Daymon was one. She was handsome and 
interesting — if her fortune was gone. The party consisted of 
the moneyed aristocracy of the city, wiih whom Roxie had 
been raised and educated. Every one of the party was 
willing to contribute and pay Roxie's expenses, for the sake 
of her company. A magnificent steamer, of the day, plying 
between St. Louis and New Orleans, was selected for the 
carrier, three hundred feet in length, and sixty feet wide. 
The passenger cabin was on the upper deck, nearly two 
hundred feet in length ; a guard eight feet wide, for a foot- 
way, and promenade on the outside of the hall, extended on 
both sides, the full length of the cabin ; a plank partition di- 
vided the long hall — the aft room was the ladies', the front 
the gentlemen's cabin. The iron horse, or some of his suc- 
cessors, will banish these magnificent floating palaces, and I 
describe, for the benefit of coming generations. 

Nothing of interest occured to our party, until the boat 
landed at the Simon plantations. Young Simon and cousin 
Caesar boarded the boat, for passage to New Orleans, for they 
were on their way to the West Indies, to spend the winter. 
Young Simon was in the last stage of consumption and. his 
physician had recommended the trip as the last remedy. 
Young Simon was walking on the outside guard, opposite the 
ladies' cabin, when a female voice with a shrill and piercing 
tone rang upon his ear — '•^Take Roxie Dayjuon away^ The 
girls were romping. — '^ Take Roxie Daymon away,'^ were the 
mysterious dying words of young Simon's father. Simon 
turned, and mentally bewildered, entered the gentlemen's 
cabin. A colored boy, some twelve years of age, in the ser- 
vice of the boat, was passing — Simon held a silver dollar in 
his hand as he said, •' I will give you this, if you will ascer- 
tain and point out to me the lady in the cabin, that they call 
Roxit Dayjnon.'^ The imo of Africa s^'v^d th^ -oin, and 



72 P£N PICTURES. 

passing on said in a voice too low for Simon's ear, "good 
bargain, boss." The Roman Eagle was running down stream 
through the dark and muddy waters of the Mississippi, at the 
rate of twenty miles an hour. 

In the dusk of tlie evening, Young Simon and Roxie 
Daymon were sitting side by side — alone, on the aft-guard of 
the boat. The ever open ear of the Angel of observation has 
furnished us with the following conversation. 

"Your mother's maiden name, is what I am anxious to 
learn," said Simon gravely. 

" Roxie Fail field, an orphan girl, raised in Kentucky," said 
Roxie sadly. 

"Was she an only child, or did she have sisters?" said 
Simon inquiringly. 

" My mother died long years ago — when I was too young 
to remember, my father had no relations — that I ever heard of 
— Old aunt Patsey Perkins— a great friend of mother's m her 
life-time, told me after mother was dead, and I had grown 
large enough to thi-ik about kinsfolk, that mother had two sis- 
ters somewhere, named Rose and Suza, poor trash, as she 
called them ; and that is all I know of my relations : and to be 
frank with you, I am nothing but poor trash too, I have no 
family history to boast of," said Roxie honestly. 

"You will please excuse me Miss, for wishing to know 
something of your family history — there is a mystery connec- 
ted with it, that may prove to your advantage" — Simon was 
convinced. — He pronounced the word twenty — when the An- 
gel of caution placed his finger on his lip — hush! — and young 
Simon turned the conversation, and as soon as he could po- 
litely do so, left the presence of the young lady, and sought 
cousin Caesar, who by the way, was well acquainted with the 
most of the circumstances we have recorded, but had wisely 
kept them to himself. Cousin Caesar now told young Simon 
the whole story. 



PEN PICTURES. 73 

Twenty-thousanfl dollars, with twenty years interest, was 
against his estate. Roxie Daymon, the young lady en the 
boat, was an heir, others lived in Kentucky — all of which 
cousin Caesar learned from a descendant of Briudle Bill. The 
pleasure party with Simon and cousin Ca6sar, stopped at the 
same hotel in the Crescent City. At the end of three weeks 
the pleasure party returned to Chicago. Young Simon and 
cousin Caesar left for the West Indies. — Young Simon and 
Roxie Daymon were engaged to be married the following 
spring at Chicago. Simon saw many beautiful women in his 
travels — but the image of Roxie Daymon was ever before him.. 
The good Angel of observation has failed to inform us, of 
Roxie Daymon's feelings and object in the match. A young 
and beautiful woman ; full of life and vigor consenting to wed 
a dying man, hushed the voice of the good Angel, and he has 
said nothing. 

Spring with its softening breezes returned — the ever to 
be remembered »spring of 1861. 

The shrill note of the iron horse announced the ariival 
of young Simon and cousin Caesar in Chicago, on the 7th day 
of April, 1 86 1. 

Simon had lived upon excitement, and reaching the des- 
tination of his hopes —the great source of his life failed — cou- 
sin Caesar carried him into the hotel — he never stood alone 
again — the marriage was put off— until Simon should be bet- 
ter. On the second day, cousin Caesar was preparing to leave 
the room, on business in a distant part of the city. Roxie 
had been several times alone with Simon, and was then ] res- 
ent. Roxie handed a sealed note to cousin Caesar, politely 
asking him to deliver it. The note was inscribed, Gov. Mo- 
rock, No. 77 Strait street. 

Cousin Cjesar had been absent but a short time, when 
that limb of the law appeared and wrote a will dictated by 
young Simon ; bequeathing all of his possessions, vfitho-'it re- 



74 PEN PICTURES. 

serve to Roxie Daymon. " How much," said Roxie, as the 
Governor was about to leave. " Only ten dollars, madam," 
said the Governor, as he stuffed the bill carelessly in his vest 
pocket and departed. 

Through the long vigils of the night cousin Caesar sat by 
the side of the dying man ; before the sun had silvered the 
eastern horizon, the soul of young Simon was with his fathers. 
The day was consumed in making preparations for the last, 
honor due the dead. Cousin Caesar arranged with a party 
to take the remains to Arkansas, and place the son by the 
side of the father, on the home»plantation. The next morn- 
ing as cousin Caesar was scanning the morning papers, the fol- 
lowing brief notice attracted his attention: " Young Simon, 
the wealthy young cotton planter, who died in the city yester- 
day, left by his last will and testament his whole estate, worth 
more than a milhon of dollars, to Roxie Daymon, a young 
lady of this city. 

Cousin Caesar was bewildered and astonished. He was 
a stranger in the city ; he rubbed his hand across his forehead 
to collect his thoughts, and remembered No. 77 Strait street. 
*'Yes I observed it — it is a law office," he said mentally, 
''there is something in that number seventy-seven, I have 
never understood it before, since my dream on the steam car- 
riage seventy-seven/' and cousin Caesar directed his steps to- 
ward Strait street. 

"Important business, I suppose sir," said Governor Mo- 
rock, as he read cousin Caesar's anxious countenance. 

"Yes, somewhat so," said cousin Caesar, pointing to the 
notice in the paper, he continued: "I am a relative of Simon 
and have served him faithfully for two years, and they say he 
has willed his estate to a stranger." 

" Is it p-o-s-s-i-b-l-e-," said the Governor, affecting aston- 
ishment. 



PEN PICTURES. 75 

" What would you..^dvise me to do? " said cousin Cae- 
sar imploringly. 

" Break the will — break the will, sir,'' said the Governor 
emphatically. • 

^ Ah! that will take money," said cousin Caesar sadly. 

" Yes, yes, but it will bring money," said the Governor, 
rubbing his hands together. 

"I s-u-p p-o-s-ewe would be required to prove incapac- 
ity on the part of Simon," said cousin Caesar slowly. 

''Money will prove anything," said the Governor decid- 
edly. 

The Governor struck the right key, for cousin Caesar was 
well schooled in treacherous humanity, and noted for seeing 
the bottom of things; but he did not see the bottom of the 
Governor's dark designs. 

" How much for this case ? "said cousin Caesar. 

*'0h! I am liberal — I am liberal," said the Governor 
rubbing his hands and continuing, " can't tell exactly, owing 
to the trouble and cost of the things, as we go along. A mil- 
lion is the stake — well, let me see, this is no child's play. A 
man that has studied for long years — you can't expect him to 
be cheap — but as I am in the habit of working for nothing — 
if you will pay me one thousand dollars in advance, I will 
undertake the case, and then a few more thousands will round 
it up — can't say exactly, any more sir, than I am always lib- 
eral." 

Cousin Caesar hnd some pocket-money, furnished by 
young Simon, to pay expenses etc., amounting to a little more 
than one thousand dollars. His mind was bewildered with 
the number seventy- seven, and he paid over to the Governor 
on© thousand dollars. After Governor Morock had the mon- 
ey safe in his pocket, he commenced a detail of the cost of 
the suit — among other items, was a large amount for witnesses. 



76 PEN PICTURES. 

The Governor had the case — it was a big case — and the Gov- 
ernor has determined to make it pay him. 

Cousin Caeser reflected, and saw that he must have help, 
and as he left the office of Governor Morock, said mentally : 
'•' One of them d — n figure sevens I saw in my dream, would 
fall off the pin, and I fear, I have struck the wrong lead." 

In the soft twilight of the evening, when the conductor 
cried, "all aboard," cousin Caesar was seated in the train, on 
his way to Kentucky, to solicit aid from Cliff Carlo, the oldest 
son and representative man, of the family descended from Don 
Carlo, the hero of Shirt-Tail Bsnd, and Suza Fairfield, the 
belle of Port William 




SCENE SEVENTH— WAR BETWEEN THE STATES. 

The late civil v/ar between the States of the American 
Union was the inevitable result of two civilizations under one 
government, which no powxr on earth could have prevented. 
' We place the federal and confederate soldier in the same 
?,cdi\Q per se, and one will not weigh the other down an atom. 
So even will they poise that you may mark the small allow- 
ance of the weight of a hair. But place upon the beam the 
pea of their actions while upon the stage, on either side, and 
the poise may be up or down. 

More than this, your orator has nothing to say of the 
war, except its effect upon the characters we describe. 

The bright blossoms of a May morning were opening to 
meet the sunlight, while the surrounding foliage was waving 
in the soft breeze ol spring; on the southern bank of the beauti- 
ful Ohio, where the momentous events of the future were con- 
cealed from the eyes of the preceding generation by the dark 
veil of the coming revolutions of the globe. 

We see Cousin Csesar and Cliff Carlo m close counsel, 
upon the subject of meeting the expenses of the contest at 
law over the Simon estite, m the State of Arkansas 

Cliff Carlo was rather nan-committa). Roxie Daymon 
was a near relative, and the unsolved problem in the case of 
compromise and law did not admit of haste on the part of the 
Carlo family. Compromise was not the forte of Cousin Csesar. 
To use his own words, " I have made the cast, and will stand 
the hazard of the die." 



78 PEN PICTURES. 

But the enterprise, with surrounding circumstances, 
would have baffled a bolder man than Cajsar Simon. The 
first gun of the war had beeai fired at Fort Sumter, in South 
Carolina, on the 12th day of April, 1861. 

The President of the United States had called for seven- 
ty-five thousand war-like men to redezvous at Washington 
City, and form a PrcBtorian guard, to strengthen the arm of 
the government. To arms, to arms! was the cry both North 
and South. The last lingering hope of peace betweei-i the 
States had faded from the minds of all men, and the bloody 
crest of war was painted on the horizon of the future. The 
border slave States, in the hope of peace, had remained inac- 
tive all winter. They now withdrew from the Union and 
joined their fortunes with the South, except Kentucky — the 
dark and bloody ground historic in the annals of war — showed 
the white feather, and announced to the world that her soil 
was the holy ground of peace. This proclamation was too 
thin for Caesar Simon. Some of the Carlo family h^ad long 
since immigrated to Missouri. To consult with them on the will 
affair, and meet with an element more disposed to defend his 
prospect of property, Cousin Caesar left Kentucky for Mis- 
souri. On the fourth day of July, 1861, in obedience to the 
call of the President, the Congress of the United States met 
at Washington City. This Congress called to the contest five 
hundred thousand men; '' a-icd havoc and let slip the dogs of 
war,'* and Missouri was invaded by federal troops, who were 
subsequently put under the command of Gen. Lyon. About 
the middle of July we see Cousin Caesar marching in the 
army of Gen. Sterling Price — an army composed of all classes 
of humanity, who rushed to the conflict without promise of 
piy or assistance from the government of the Confederate 
States of America — an army without arms or equipment, 
except such as it gathered from the citizens, double-barreled 
shot-guns — an army of volunteers without the promise of pay 



PEN PICTURES. 79 

or hope of reward; composed of men from eighteen to seventy 
years of age, with a uniform of costume varying from the 
wahiut colored roundabout to the pigeon-tailed broadcloth 
coat. The mechanic and the farmer, the professional and 
the non-professional, the merchant and the jobber, the specu 
lator and the butcher, the country schoolmaster and the 
printer's devil, the laboring man and the dead-beat, all rushed 
into Price's army, seemingly under the influence of the watch- 
word of the old Jews, ^^ To your tents, O Israel!^' and it is a 
fact worthy of record that this unarm.ed and untrained army 
never lost a battle on Missouri soil in the first year of the 
war.* Gov, Jackson had fled from Jefferson City on the 
approach of the federal army, and assembled the Legislature at 
Neosho, in the southwest corner of the State, who were una- 
ble to assist Price's army. The troops went into the field, 
thrashed the wheat and milled it for themselves; were often 
upon half rations, and frequently lived upon roasting ears. 
Except the Indian or border war in Kentucky, fought by a 
preceding generation, the first year of the war in Missouri is 
unparalleled in the history of war on this continent. Gen. 
Price managed to subsist an army without governmental 
resources. His men were never demoralized for the want of 
food, pay or clothing, and were always cheerful, and fre- 
quently danced 'round their camp-fires, bare-footed and rag- 
ged, with a spirit of merriment that would put the blush upon 
the cheek of a circus. Gen. Price wore nothing upon his 
shoulders but a brown linen duster, and, his white hair stream- 
ing in the breeze on the field of battle, was a picture resem- 
bling the war-god of the Romans in ancient fable. 

This army of ragged heroes marched over eight hundred 
miles on Missouri soil, and seldom passed a week without an 
engagement of some kind — it was confined to no particular 



*The so called battle of Boonville was a rash venture of citizens, not under the 
command of Gen. Price at the tirr.e. 



80 PEN PICTURES. 

line cf operations, but fought the enemy wher-ever they found 
him. It had started on the campaign without a dollar, with- 
out a wagon, without a cartridge, and without a bayonet- 
gun ; and when it was called east of the Missisippi river, it 
possessed about eight thousand bayonet-guns, fifty pieces of 
cannon, and four hundred tents, taken almost exclusively 
from the Federals, on the hard-fought fields of battle. 

When this army crossed the Mississippi river the star of 
its glory had set never to rise again. The invigorating name 
of state rights was merged in the Southern Confederacy. 

With this prelude to surrounding circumstances, we will 
now follow the fortunes of Cousin Caesar. Enured to hard- 
ships in early life, possessing a penetrating mind and a selfish 
disposition, Cousin Caesar was ever ready to float on the 
stream of prosperity, with triumphant banners, or £;o down 
as drift wood. 

And whatever he may have lacked in manhood, he was 
as brave as a lion on the battle-field; and the campaign of 
Gen. Price in Missouri suited no private soldier better than 
Csesar Simon. Like all soldiers in an active army, he thought 
only of battle and amusement. Consequently, the will. 
Gov. Morock and the Simon estate occupied but little of 
Cousin C^sai's reflections. One idea had taken possession 
of him, and that was southern victory. He enjoyed the tri- 
umphs of his fellow soldier?, and ate his roasting ears with 
the same invigorating spirit. A sober second thought and 
cool reflections only come with the struggle for his own life, 
and with it a self-reproach that always, sooner or later. Over- 
takes the faithless. 

The ba-ttle of Oak Hill, usually called the battle of 
Springfield, was one of the hardest battles fought west of the 
Mississippi river. The federal troops, under Gen. Lyon, 
amounted to nearly ten thousand men. The confederate 



PEN PICTURES. 81 

t oops, under Genferals McCulloch, Price, and Pearce, were 
about eleven thousand men. 

On the ninth of August the Confederates camped at 
Wilson's Creek, intending to advance upon the Federals at 
Springfield. The next morning General Lyon attacked them 
before sunrise. The battle was fought with rash bravery on 
both sides. General Lyon, after having been twice wounded, 
was shot dead while leading a rash charge. Half the loss on 
the Confederate side was from Price's army — a sad memorial 
of the part they took in the contest. Soon after the fall of 
General Lyon the Federals retreated to Springfield, and left 
the Confederates master of the field. About the closing 
scene of the last struggle, Cousin Caesar received a musket 
ball in the right leg, and fell among the wounded and dying. 

The wound was not necessarily fatal; no bone was 
broken, but it was very painful and bleeding profusely. 
When Cousin Caesar, after lying a long time where he fell, 
realized the situation, he saw that without assistance he must 
bleed to death ; and impatient to wait for some one to pick 
him up, he sought quarters by his own exertions. He had 
managed to crawl a quarter of a mile, and gave out at a point 
where no one would think of looking for the wounded. Weak 
from the loss of blood, he could crawl no farther. The light 
of day was only discernable in the dim distance of the West; 
the Angel of silence had spread her wing over the bloody 
battle field. In vain Cousin Caesar pressed his hand upon 
the wound ; the crimson life would ooze out between his fin- 
gers, and Cousin Caesar lay down to die. It was now dark ; 
no light met his eye, and no sound came to his ear, save the 
song of two grasshoppers in a cluster of bushes — one. sang 
«' Katie-did ! " and the other sang " Katie-didn't ! " Cousin 
Caesar said, mentally, ''It will soon be decided with me 
whether Katie did or whether she didn't ! Jn the last mo- 
ments of hope Cousin Caesar heard and recognized the sound 



82 PEN PICTURES. 

of a human voice, and gathering all the strength of his lungs, 
pronounced the word — "S-t-e-v-e! " In a short time he saw 
two men approaching him. It was Steve Brindle and a Cher- 
okee Indian. As soon as they saw the situation, the Indian 
darted like a wild deer to where there had been a camp fire, 
and returned with his cap full of ashes which he appHed to 
Cousin Caesar's wound. Steve Brindle bound it up and 
stopped the blood. The two men then carried the wounded 
man to camp — to*.recover and reflect upon the past. Steve 
Brindle was a private, in the army of General Pearce, from 
Arkansas, and the Cherokee Indian was a camp follower be- 
longing to the army of General McCulloch. They were look- 
ing over the battle field in search of their missing friends, 
when they accidentally discovered and saved Cousin Caesar. 

Early in the month of September, Generals McCulloch 
and Price having disagreed on the plan of campaign. General 
Price announced to his officers his intention of moving north, 
and required a report of effective men in his army. A lieu- 
tenant, after canvassing the company to which Cousin Caesar 
belonged, went to him as the last man. Cousin Caesar re- 
ported ready for duty. " All right, you are the last man- 
No. 77," said the lieutenant, hastily, leaving Cousin Caesar 
to his reflections. "There is that number again; what can 
it mean ? Marching north, perhaps to meet a large force, is 

our company to be reduced to seven ? One of them d d 

figure sevens would fall off and one would be left on the pin. 
How should it be counted — s-e-v-e-n or half? Set up two guns 
and take one away, half would be left ; enlist two men, and 

if one is killed, half would be left — yet, with these d d 

figures, when you take one you only have one eleventh part 
left. Cut by the turn of fortune; cut with short rations; cut 
with a musket ball ; cut by self-reproach — ah^ thafs the deepest 
cut of alir^ said Cousin Caesar, mentally, as he retired to the 
tent. 



PEN PICTURES. BS 

Steve Brindle had saved Cousin Caesar's life, had been 
an old comrade in many a hard game, had divided his last 
cent with him in many hard places, had given him his family 
history and opened the door for him to step into the palace 
of wealth. Yet, when Cousin Caesar was surrounded with 
wealth and power, when honest employment would, in al^ 
human possibility, have redeemed his old comrade, Cousin 
Caesar, willing to conceal his antecedents, did not know 
S-t-e-v-e Brindle. 

General Price reached the Missouri river, at Lexington, 
on the 1 2th of September, and on the 20th captured a Fed- 
eral force intrenched there, under the command of Crlonel 
Mulligan, from whom he obtained five cannon, two mortars 
and over three thousand bayonet .guns. In fear of large 
Federal forces north of the Missouri river, General Price 
retreated south. Cousin Caesar was again animated with the 
spirit of war and had dismissed the superstitious fear of 77 
from his mind. He continued his amusements 'round the 
camp fires in Price's army, as he said, mentally, '* Governor 
Morock will keep things straight, at his office on Strait street, 
in Chicago." 

Roxie Daymon had pleasantly passed the summer and 
fall on the reputation of being rich, and was always the toast 
in the fashionable parties of the upper-ten in Chicago. 
During the first year of the war it was emphatically announced 
by the government at Washington, that it would never inter- 
fere with the slaves of loyal men. Roxie Daymon was loyal 
and Hved in a loyal city. It was war times, and Roxie had 
received no dividends from the Simon estate . 

In the month of January, 1862, the cold north wind 
from the lakes swept the dust from the streets in Chicago, and 
seemed to warn the secret, silent thoughts of humanity of the 
.great necessity of m-o-n-e-y. 

The good Angel of observation saw Roxie Daymon, with 



84: PEN PICTURES. 

a richly-trimmed fur cloak upon her shoulders and hands 
muffed, walkmg swiftly on Strait street, m Chicago, v/atching 
the numbers— at No., 77 she disappeared. 

The good Angel ooened his ear and has furnished us 
with the following conversation : 

'* I have heard incidentally that Caesar Simon is prepar 
fng to break ihe will of my esteemed friend, Young Simon, of 
Arkansas," said Roxie, sadly. 

*• Isitp-o-s s-i-b-1 e?'' said Governor Morock, affecting as- 
tonishment, and then continued, • 'More work for the lawyers, 
you know I am always liberal, madam." '• But do you think 
it possible?" said Roxie, inquiringly. '*You have money 
enough to fight with, madam, money enough to fight," said 
the Governor, decidedly. '*I suppose we will have to prove 
tfiat Simon was in full possession of his mental faculties at the 
time,'' said Roxie, with legal acumen. " Certainly, certainly 
madam, money will prove anything ; will prove anything, 
madam,' said the Governor, rabbing his hands. ''I believe 
you were the only person present at the time, " said Roxie, 
honestly. 

"I am always liberal, madam, a few thousands will 
arrange the testimony, madam. Leave that to me, if you 
ploa-^e," and in a softer tone of voice the Governor continued, 
'*you ought to pick up the crumbs, madam, pick up the 
crumbs.*' ''I would like to do so for I have never spent a 
cent in the prospect of the estate, though my credit is good 
for thousands in this city. I want to see how a dead man's 
choes will fit before I wear them," said Roxie, sacjly. 

*'Good philosophy, madam, good philosophy," said the 
Governor, and continued to explain. ''There is cotton on 
the bank of the river at the Simon plantations. Some 
arrangement ought to be made, and I think I could do it 
through some officer of the federal army," said the Governor, 



PEN PICTURES. ^5 

rubbing his hand across his forehead, and continued, '* that's 
what I mean by picking up the crumbs, madam." 

'^How much ? " said Roxie, preparing to leave the office. 

*'I am always liberal, madam, always liberal. Let mc 
see ; it is attended with some difficulty; can't leave the city; 
too much business pressing (rubbing his hands) ; well — well 
— I will pick up the crumbs for half. Think I can secure 
two or three hundred bales of cotton, madam," said the 
Governor, confidentially. 

"How much is a bale of cotton worth?" said Roxie, 
affecting ignorance. 

"Only four hundred dollars, madam; nothing but c 
crumb — nothing but a crumb, madam," said the Governor, 
in a tone of flattery. 

"Do the best you can," said Roxie, in a confidential 
tone, as she left the office. 

Governor Morock was enjoying the reputation of the 
fashionable lawyer among the upper-ten in Chicago. Roxie 
Daymon's good sense condemned him, but she did not feel 
at liberty to break the line of association. 

Cliff Carlo did nothing but write a letter of inquiry to 
Governor Morock, who informed him that the Simon estate 
was worth more than a million and a quarter, and that 
m-o-n-e-y would break the will. 

The second year of the war burst the bubble of peace 
in Kentucky. The State was invaded on both sides. The 
clang of arms on the soil where the heroes of a preceding 
generation slept, called the martial spirits in the shades of 
Kentucky to rise and shake off the delusion that peace and 
plenty breed cowards. Cliff Carlo, and many others of the 
brave sons of Kentucky, united with the southern armies, 
and fully redeemed their war like character, as worthy de- 
scendents of the heroes of the dark and bloody ground. 

Cliff Carlo passed through the struggles of the war with- 



86 PEN PICTURES. 

out a sick day or the pain of a wound. We must, therefore, 
follow the fate of the less fortunate Caesar Simon. 

During the winter of the first year of the war, Price's 
army camped ca the southern border of Missouri. 

On the third day of March, 1862, Maj. Gen. Earl Van 
Dorn, of the Confederate government, assumed the command 
of the troops under Price and McCulloch, and on the seventh 
day of March attacked the Federal forces under Curtis and 
Sturgis, twenty-five thousand strong, at Elkhorn, Van Dorn 
commanding about twenty thousand men. 

Price's army constituted the left and center, with Mc- 
Culloch on the right. The fight was long and uncertain. 
About two o'clock McCulloch fell, and his forces failed to 
press the contest. 

The Federals retreated in good order, leaving the Con- 
federates master of the situation. 

For some unaccountable decision on the part of Gen. 
Van Dorn, a retreat of the southern army was ordered, and 
instead of pursuing the Federals, the wheels of the Southern 
army were seen rolling south. 

Gen. Van Dorn had ordered the sick and disabled many 
miles in advance of the army. Cousin Caesar had passed 
through the conflict safe and sound ; it was a camp rumor 
that Steve Brindle was mortally wounded and sent forward 
with the sick. The mantle of night hung over Price's army, 
and the camp fires glimmered in the soft breeze of the even- 
ing. Silently and alone Cousin Caesar stole away from the 
scene on a mission of love and duty. Poor Steve Brindle 
had ever been faithful to him, and Cousin Caesar had suffered 
self-reproach for his unaccountable neglect of a faithful friend. 
An opportunity now presented itself for Cousin Caesar to 
relieve his cpnscience and possibly smooth the dying pillow 
of his faithful friend, Steve Brindle. 

Bravely and fearlessly on he sped and arrived at the 



PEN PICTURES. 8T 

camp of the sick. Worn down with the march, Cousin 
Caesar never rested until he had looked upon the face of the 
last sick man. Steve was not there. 

Slowly and sadly Cousin Caesar returned to the army^ 
making inquiry of every one he met for Steve Brindle. After 
a long and fruitless inquiry, an Arkansas soldier handed 
Cousin Cxsar a card, saying, " 1 was requested by a soldier 
in our command to hand this card to the man whose name it 
bears, in Price's army." Cousin Caesar took the card and 
read, ^'Csaear Simon — No. 77 deserted." Cousin Caesar 
threw the card down as though it was nothing, as he said 
mentally, '* What can it mean. There are those d — d figures 
again. Steve knew nothing of No. 77 in Chicago. How 
am I to understand this ? Steve understood my ideas of the 
mysterious No. 77 on the steam carriage. Steve has deserted 
and takes this plan to inform me. A/iI that is it! Steve has 
couched the information in language that no one can under- 
stand but myself. Two of us were on the carriage and two 
figure sevens ; one would fall off the pin. Steve has fallen off. 
-He knew 1 would understand his card when no one else 
could. But did Steve only wish me to understand that he 
had left, or did he wish me to follow ? " was a problem Cousin 
Caesar was unable to decide. It was known to Cousin 
Caesar that the Cherokee Indian who, in company with Steve, 
saved his life at Springfield, had, in company with some of 
his race, been brought upon the stage of war by Albert Pike. 
Deserted! And Cousin Caesar was left alone, with no bosom 
friend save the friendship of one southern soldier for another, 
-And the idea of desertion entered the brain of Caesar Simon 
for the first time. 

Caesar Simon was a born soldier, animated by the clang 
of arms and roar of battle, and although educated in the 
school of treacherous humanity, he was one of the few who 
resolved to die in the last ditcli, and he concluded his reflec- 



^ PEN PICTURES. 

tions with the sarcastic remark, ** Steve Brindle is a coward." 
Before Gen. Van Dorn faced the enemy again, he was 
called east of the Mississippi river. Price's army embarked 
at Des Arc, on White river, and when the last man was on 
board the boats, there were none more cheerful than Cousin 
Caesar. He was going to fight on the soil of his native State, 
for it was generally understood the march by water was to 
Memphis, Tennessee. 

It is said that a portion of Price's army showed the 
7vhite feather at luka. Cousin Caesar was not in that division 
of the army. After that event he was a camp lecturer, and 
to him the heroism of the army owes a tribute in memory 
for the brave hand to hand fight in the streets of Corinth, 
where, from house to house and within a stone's throw of 
Rosecrans' headquarters. Price's men made the Federals fly. 
But the Federals were reinforced from their outposts, and 
Gen. Van Dorn was in command, and the record says he 
made a rash attack and a hasty retreat. 

Maj. Gen. T. C. Hindman was the southern commander 
of what was called the district of Arkansas west of the Mis- 
sissippi river. He was a petty despot as well as an unsuc- 
cessful commander of an army. The country suffered un- 
paralleled abuses; crops were ravaged, cotton burned, and 
the magnificent palaces of the southern planter licked up by 
flames. The torch was applied frequently by an unknown 
hand. The Southern commander burned cotton to prevent 
its falling into the hands of the enemy. Straggling soldiers 
belonging to distant commands traversed the country, robbing 
the people and burning. How much of this useless destruc- 
tion is chargable to Confederate or Federal commanders, it 
is impossible to determine. Much of the waste inflicted upon 
the country was by the hand of lawless guerrillas. Four hun- 
dred bales of cotton were burned on the Simon plantation, 
and the residence on the home plantation, that cost S. S. 



PEN PICTURES. 89 

Simon over sixty-five thousand dollars, was nothing but a 
heap of ashes. 

Governor Morock's agents never got any crumbs^ al- 
though the Governor had used nearly all of the thousand 
dollars obtained from Cousin Caesar to pick up the crumbs on 
|he Simon plantations, he never got a crumb. 

General Hindman was relieved of his command west 
of the Mississippi, by President Davis. Generals Kirby, 
Smith, Holmes and Price subsequently commanded the 
Southern troops west of the great river. The federals had 
fortified Helena, a point three hundred miles above Vicks 
burg on the west bank of the river. They had three forts 
with a gun-boat lying in the river, and were about four 
thousand strong. They were attacked by General Holmes, 
on the 4th day of July, 1863. General Holmes had under 
his command General Price's division of infantry, about 
fourteen hundred men; Fagans brigade of Arkansas, 
infantry, numbering fifteen hundred men, and Marmaduke's 
division of Arkansas, and Missouri cavalry, about two 
thousand, making a total of four thousand and nine hundred 
men. Marmaduke was ordered to attack the northern fort ; 
Fagan was to attack the southern fort, and General Price 
the center fort. The onset to be simultaneously and at day- 
light. 

General Price carried his position. Marmaduke and 
Fagan failed. The gun-boat in the river shelled the captured 
fort. Price's men sheltered themselves as best they could 
awaiting furthei orders. The scene was alarmmg above 
description to Price's men. It was the holiday of American 
Independence, The failure of their comrades in arms would 
compel them to retreat under a deadly fire from the enemy. 
While thus waiting, the turn of battle crouched beneath an 
old stump. Cousin Caesar saw in the distance and recog- 
nized Steve Brindle, he was a soldier in the federai army. 



90, PEN PICTURES. 

*' Oh treacherous humanity ! must I live to learn thee still 
Steve Brindle fights for m-o-n-e-y ?" said Caesar Simon, 
mentally. The good Angel ot observation whispered in his 
ear : ** Caesar Simon fights for land stripped of its orname?iis. 
Cousin Caesar scanned the situation and continued to say, 
mentally : "Life is a sentence of punishment passed by the 
court of existence on ev try private soldier" 

The battle field is the place of execution, and rash 
commanders are often the executioners. After repeated 
efforts General Holmes failed to carry the other positions. 
The retreat of Price's men was ordered ; it was accomplished 
with heavy loss. Caesar Simon fell, and with him perished 
the last link in the chain of the Simon family in the male 
line. 

. We must now let the curtain fall upon the sad events of 
the war until the globe makes nearly two more revolutions 
'round the sun in its orbit, and then we see the Southern 
•soldiers weary and war-worn — sadly deficient in numbers — 
lay down their arms — the war is ended. The Angel of 
peace has spread her golden wing from Maine to Florida, 
and from Virginia to California. The proclamation of free- 
dom, by President Lincoln, knocked the dollars and cents 
out of the flesh and blood of every slave on the Simon plan- 
tations. Civil courts are in session. The last foot of the 
Simon land has been sold at sheriff's sale to pay judgments, 
just and unjust. 

The goose that laid the golden egg 
Has paddled across the river. 

Governor Morock has retired from the profession, or 
the profession has retired from him. He is living on the 
cheap sale of a bad reputation — that is— all who wish dirty 
work performed at a low price employ Governor Morock. 

Roxie Daymen has married a young mechanic, and is 
happy in a cottage home. She blots the memory of the 



PEN PICTURES. 



91 



past by reading the poem entitled, ''The Workman's Satur- 
day Night." 

Cliff Carlo is a prosperous farmer in Kentucky and 
subscriber for 



The Rough Diamond. 



History, Science, Philosophy and Art, 

BLENDED IN ORIGINAL LECTURES. 



LECTURE L— LIBERTY AND LAW. 

The soul of no sane man was ever so dead, that it could 
not be aroused from lethargy by the invigorating name of 

liberty. 

Human speech has never couched in shape and form any 
word more sacred to mortal ear than liberty. 

Dearer than life to the patriotic heart, as expressed by 
the great American orator when he said, *' Give me liberty or 
give me death. '^ 

Strange, but still 'tis true, no philosopher has ever told 
us what liberty is. 

Looking back o'er the dark centuries of the past we ob- 
serve representative men among all nations arousing the 
people with the old watch word, liberty. 

Julius Cffisar, Charlemagne, William the Conqueror, 
Napoleon Bonaparte, and all great leaders of revolutions, 
raised the universal cry of oppression and fought under the 
banner of liberty. 

All nations have not lived under the same government, 



'94 PEN "PICTURES. 

hence it is evident that liberty itself must change with the 
times and circumstances. 

When liberty is spoken of every one has an idea of what 
is meant, for every one has known what it is to live in free- 
dom, and also what it is to live and act under restraint. 

But then it is obvious, that different persons enjoy liberty 
according to circumstances. 

Things that infringe upon the liberty of some, have no 
such effect upon the liberty of others. 

So, in a situation where one would feel at liberty, another 
would feel himself in bondage. 

Hence it is evident, though all have a general idea of 
what liberty is, that all have not the same idea of it. 

For, as different persons would not all feel free under 
the same circumstances, it follows that liberty itself is not the 
same thing at all, 

A man educated in the law feels free in his library, force 
him to the handles of the plow and he would feel himself in 
bondage. 

Ah ! Liberty — what is Liberty ? 
The Goddess adored by primitive man, 
In olden times, when justice first began, 
With weights and balances in her hand, 
Reigned triumphant o'er the Grecian land. 
Some ancient sage, the brilliant Goddess saw, 
At first sight lov'd, and changed her name to law. 
And then the duties of domestic life 
Incumbent to her, as to every v;ife. 
Wooed by millions since that wedding day, 
All of her suitors are compelled to say, 
Individuals must their freedom draw, 
From the union of liberty and law. 

But says one, is the universal cry of liberty nothing but 
a name ? is there no such thing as national liberty ? There 
is — all nations have the inherent right to make their own laws 



PEN PICTURES. 95- 

or in other words to lay the foundation of their own liberties. 

But as to individual liberty, outside of law, there is no 
such thing. 

Law is a universal rule by which the conduct of all is 
measured, the regulator of society, adopted anciently by 
kings and rulers, modernly by the people who are the sov- 
ereigns of this land. 

The first definition of the word law is, power or force ; 
the laws of nature are the result of the power of the unseen 
hand — the hand of the ruler of the Universe. 

The laws of society originate with wise and just men, 
and ripen into the laws of the land ; the power of the ruler 
Is the first principle of all law. 

The first definition of the word liberty is freedom from 
restraint, in the union of liberty and law ; one is free from 
restraint as measured by the rule of the law. 

To be entirely free from restraint would be enjoyed by 
few men, and it has been wisely said, ''Where there is no 
law there is no freedom." 

Place a man upon an island, solitary and alone — 

••And from the center, all round to the sea, 
He would be monarch of all he surveyed." 

But the moment another man landed upon the island, to 
have association together, each man would be under restraint. 

The force of necessity would compel them to form the 
blossom of society, and from the customs of society and 
fruits of association we lay the foundation of the laws of 
the land. 

In all modern nations the people are indirectly the law 
making power. Public opinion is the blossom of law, for 
when it is raised sufficiently high its power is irresistible. 

Charles the First, of England, and Louis the Sixteenth,, 
of France, could not resist public opinion. 



96 PEN PICTURES. 

Justice is the object in view when we appeal to the law, 
and the proper administration of the law is justice according 
to law. 

While justice is the object of law in the first place, and 
the proper administration of law in the second place, one 
may receive justice according to law, but it will be justice 
only in proportion to the justness of the jaw. 

Many thihgs considered just by primitive society fall far 
short of justice in more advanced civilization. 

All nations shape most of their laws according to circum- 
stances, and as time changes or ameliorates circumstances, 
we say the times have changed and so have the laws. 

But says one, if liberty is regulated by law, uniform law 
should produce uniform restraint; or, in other words, under 
the same laws all should enjoy the same liberties. 

Why is it the beggar is drummed out of town for stealing 
a loaf of bread while the millionaire steals thousands with 
impunity ? 

Human laws, unlike divine laws, do not operate of 
themselves ; they are put in force by human hands. Officers 
of the law like other men are more or less governed by cir- 
cumstances. 

Self and self-preservation is the first law of human nature 
and few men can stand above the influence of circumstances, 
and thus 7noney has ever ameliorated crime. 

When a man who has plenty of money breaks the law 
there are a thousand eyes turned in every direction to find 
some excuse — every nook and corner is canvassed to pick up 
something to palliate the crime. 

But reverse the rule and apply it to XkiQ moneyless man— 
no eye is opened by self-interest, or turned round by the 
greedy love of gold. 



PEN PICTURES. 97 

Justice and judges, as cold as the Jews, 
Will meet in the court and give him his dues; 
No plea has been found, since justice began, 
To lie in court for a moneyless man. 

While many of our laws are permanent, the administra- 
tion of them is frequently influenced by the surrounding cir- 
cumstances. 

The laws of human nature and the laws of society fre- 
quently come in conflict. Our ideas and natural inclinations 
are not all free — like individual persons, they are free only 
according to the laws of the mind. 

The laws of the mind govern, to some extent, the actions 
of men. For we cannot assume that all men are held under 
restraint only by the laws of society, or the laws of the land. 

The laws of organism govern all regulated minds — hence 
when reason fails to assert authority over the mind, the pas- 
sions are not under control — they are left free and will grasp 
satisfaction. 

An eminent mental philosopher said, * ' Man is happy in 
proportion to the satisfaction of his mental faculties." I 
should rather say — Man is happy in proportion to the capa- 
bility of his mind to govern itself. 

The laws of organism govern all well regulated minds. 
The eye is a mental organ of the mind — in fact, it is but the 
end of a mental nerve, and, if correctly organized, the light 
is made manifest to the brain — and thus we see. All of our 
mental organs are like the eye, they receive their influence 
externally. We are creatures operated upon by circum- 
stances. The savage man belongs to savage circumstances 
— and the civilized man to civilized circumstances. 

The laws of savage life, or human nature, incline all men 
to dishonesty — it is natural for a man to take advantage of 
others, to gra-tify his passions; the laws of civilization is the 
only restraint. 



'98 PEN PICTURES. • 

Universal marriage as soon as maturity arrives, is the 
natural impulse of youth. 

To take possession of anything as soon as it .s deserted, 
or laid aside by another, is the natural impulse of the savage. 
Honesty, virtue, and manhood all arise from our laws and 
civilization. Hence, we see primitive men all rogues. And 
I am sorry to say some clmg with unabating tenacity to a 
long line of ancestors. 

My countrymen pay much attention to the improvement 
of their stock, read long pedigrees and pay high prices for a 
cow. The cow is valued not for what she possesses, but for 
her blood. When they come to select a wife, the first in- 
quiry is what does she possess? what is she worth? They 
seldom inquire whether her physical and mental abilities are 
suitable to them as individuals, whether the family will be 
on the up or the down grade. Until the union of men and 
women is effected with more judgment, progress in the human 
race must depend entirely upon education. 

That our civilization can make no farther advances, is 
one of the great errors of the age. 

Some of our customs and laws that have oeen in vogue 
since the dawn of history, can and will be set aside. 

All men venerate antiquity, and to part with an old idea, 
or change our view of ancient justice, and venerated customs, 
handed down from one generation to another, through the 
long centuries of the past, is like burying an old friend — he 
is gone, but we cannot forget him. 

And thus we hold on with unabating tenacity to the 
customs of our fathers. A man may boast of a long line of 
learned ancestors, and flatter himself with the idea that he was 
bred in a high state of civilization, while in truth he is at best 
only a half breed. As long as money elevates family, few 
can claim to be more than half bloods. 

The laws of hereditary descent in connection with educa- 



PEN PICTURES. 99 

don, are the two great powers that must eventually carry the 
human race to the millennium. 

The Jews are the most distinguished of the nations of 
antiquity, who established divine laws. The civil law origi- 
nated with the Greeks and Romans, the gods they worshipped 
were a superstitious representation of the human passions, and 
their laws originated from the customs of the people, and 
were at first denominated civil laws, to distinguish them from 
the laws of other nations. Later — -the term civil law was 
used to distinguish the customs and laws of the State, from 
the canon laws or laws of the church. 

The laws called the laws of Solon and of Lycurgus, and 
other ancient statesmen, did not originate with .these men ; 
they only organized a code of laws founded upon the customs 
of the people, and suitable to the times in which they lived. 

During the rise of the Roman Empire, subjugated pro- 
vinces, while they were compelled to pay tribute to Rome, 
were still permitted to live according to their own customs, 
and be judged by their own laws. 

After the fall of the Roman Empire, new German States 
were founded in the west, in which the immigrated Germans 
a.'id conquered Romans lived together under the same govern- 
ment. The Germans had separate laws and customs of their 
own preserved in their new settlements, while the subdued 
Romans, living among them, continued to use their own 
laws and customs, and were judged according to them. 

Hence we see the manners and customs of the people 
that are to be governed, lay the foundation of their laws. 
We should therefore adopt new manners and customs with 
great caution, while upon the other hand, old manners and 
customs that are deleterious to the well being of society, 
should be set aside with firmness, for as certain as the man- 
ners and customs of the dead generations have ripened into 
the laws of the living, the manners and customs of the living 



100 PEN PICTURES. 

will ripen into the laws or the coming generations of men. 

The common law, as recognized to-day, orignated from 
the manners and customs of the English people, and was at 
first designated the unwritten law, but we must not under- 
stand from this that the statute, or written law, did not origi- 
nate in the same way, for we know that the unwritten law 
has ever laid the foundation of statute law in all countries. 

Our laws, like our language, are gradually changing. So 
many new words have been engrafted on the English lan- 
guage, that an Englishman resurrected from the grave, where 
he has slept for eight hundred years, would not understand 
our language, or live happily under our laws. Our language 
is progressive, and so are our laws. Social and political cus- 
toms are the blossoms of the coming law. Societies are set- 
ting aside customs which are still legal, but with the increase 
of numbers in society, those customs will be set aside. 

The germ of a law, like a mustard seed starts from a 
point, and our laws to-day are half a century behind the 
times. 

Resurrect George Washington from the grave and let 
him witness the flight across the continent upon the iron /wrse ; 
let him near the announcement of the election in New Or- 
leans made in Washington City in twenty minutes after it is 
spoken by the judges, and he would think he had slept a 
thousand years ; let him go to Mount Vernon and bring suit 
for possession. 

Adverse claims and the iaw delays, 
Would sound to him like former days. 

1 have said that tne origin of the law is the customs of 
the people, and great statesmen only organize the will of the 
people they represent. 

By this declaration it is not my design to tarnish a feather 
RTa the cap of any great man, for it is genius of the highest 



PEN PICTURES. 101 

order that can fathom the bosoms of the people, that can feel 
with the wronged and observe the motives of the wrong- 
doer and apply the proper remedy. While the lamps of all 
past ages cast a flood of light upon the present they must re- 
veal wrong as well as right. 

To say that our laws have approached perfection, would 
affirm the arrival of the millennium. 

The struggle of a principle in law, like the struggle of a 
word in a language, must depend upon its own strength. 

The liberty of a people to make their laws is bounded by 
the line of the state; the term United States conveys the idea 
that a number of different states have united for a certain pur- 
pose. To suppose they had united for all purposes of gov- 
ernment and law would abolish the state lines and leave but 
one state. 

One state and a centraHzed government would be the 
inevitable fate of our country. The government has of late 
been to some extent revolutionized on this subject, but there 
are yet many questions that lie along the borderline between 
state and federal authorities that have yet to be discussed and 
settled 

Any law, local in its effects and republican in its form, 
and not in conflict with the Constitution of the United States,' 
is a part and parcel of the liberties of the state. 

You may rob me of my goods; you may rob me of my 
party name; but oh! God, save me from the dark dema* 
gogue who would unjustly rob me of my liberty. 

The future greatness of our country depends upon the 
ability with which we defend the rights transmitted to us by 
our fathers. 

When the waves of empire shall beat upon the rock of 
state rights, may some gallant son of a noble sire arise and 
proclaim thus far you may go but no farther. 

In the states, like the provinces of the Great Empire 



102 PEN PICTURES. 

let us live under our own laws while we pay tribute to Rome. 

The freedom of the Union depends upon the freedom of 
the states ; like the character of a family depends upon the 
character of its individual members. 

The future of our country is astounding. Revolving 
time will give us two hundred millions of people. The 
great problem of self-government has yet to be put to the 
test. With the accumulation of strength we accumulate the 
difficulties of the problem of government. Education, virtue 
and manhood must be increased with increasing power. 
Mental improvement can and ought to be offered to all class- 
es of our people. Honest political economy in place of 
political deception should be ever held up to the view of the 
rising generation. 

With a soil unsurpassed on the globe ; throughout a broad 
and beautiful land ; with a genius unparalleled in the history 
of nations ; with a people brave, active and generous the fu- 
ture can only grow dark under the mantle of an unwise gov- 
ernment. The public mind, like the mind of an individual, 
is subject to violent commotions, but in the moments of calm 
reflection it is more apt to appeal to reason and establish law 
and justice. The Romans divided the law into what they 
called public and private law ; the latter applied to individu- 
als, the former to the state. The law between man and man 
or what is properly individual, is more lasting and permanent 
and is seldom overthrown by revolutions in the government. 

William, the conqueror, overran and revolutionized the 
government of England, but the Saxon inhabitants clung to 
their birth-right memories and the laws of Alfred the Great, 
and although an effort was made to change the language as 
well as the laws, it could not be effected, and while the 
blending of the Norman and Saxon tongues gave up the Eng- 
lish language, fair-minded men to-day love the plain Saxon 
words. 



PEN PICTURES. 103 

Public law, or the administration of the government, is 
the great end and aim of all revolutions, and no revolution 
of a government in any age or country was ever accomplished 
without 2. political party. Revolutions are necessary; they 
must and will come in the order of progress; they mark, and 
will continue to mark, the onward march of our civiHzation. 

But when I speak of the baneful influences of political 
parties, my tongue grows silently short. It would take a 
master of the fine arts, and require the genius of all the 
leading languages to guide the pen of an author, or the elo- 
quence of an orator to draw even a faint outline of the unpar- 
alleled history of party crime. 

No government can exist without a party, and while I 
recognize party and principle as the two great elements in 
political economy, I hope, and honestly trust, never to for- 
sake principle for the sake of party. 

Since the days of Grecian fables great ideas have been 
communicated by homely illustrations. The fable of the 
*'Fawn and Leopard" may not be out of place here. 

Near by the handsome hills of a western State, with 
towering tree-tops and foliage green, in wild seclusion from 
the haunts of men there lived a seal fat fawn. By morning's 
dream aroused from sleep and hungry for the new-grown 
grass, with nimble foot and fairy tread started out to nip the 
buds and breathe the morning air. Behind she left her doating 
dam, and wandered far away across the pleasing plain spread 
with carpet green and fringed with wild and wasting bloom. 
She brushed the dew from the growing grass and nipped the 
tender buds. Amid the stillness of the scene no sound was 
heard and she saw no fraid. 

Hard by the hazel brush a leopard sat, with eager eyes 
and ivory teeth, half concealed, with hunger in his breast 
and murder in his eye ; still as inaudible time to watch the 
coming fawn. 



.104 PEN PICTURES. 

The scent of blood on the morning air rushed through 
his head and formed his feet to spring, his leap fell short, 
and then the frightened fawn flew with her life across the 
open field. 

At first she ran too fast for him, 'twas down a long 
descent ; but rising up the sloping hill, her wind grew short 
and faint, for want of breath, her speed lost half its force. 

With iron heel and eager eyes the bloody beast approach- 
ed. Thus, far away from hope or help, the fleet-footed 
fawn found her fate. 

The fawn fitly represents principle, pure as the dew 
from heaven; while the leopard represents party always fond 
of blood. 

As we enjoy our individual freedom by the union of 
liberty and law, we also enjoy our public freedom by the 
union of principle and party. 

No government can exist without a party, but it must 
be properly blended with principle. Politicians say we must 
stand by our party, and they should add, we must also stand 
by our principles. 

The United States government will eventually stereotype 
the ancient government of Imperial or Papal Rome. Im- 
perial Rome, or the government of Rome under the Emper- 
ors, when they conquered a neighboring nation, perm.tted 
them to live according to their own customs, and to be judged 
by their own laws; while they were required to pay tribute 
to Rome for protection, and the Roman legions were ever 
ready to defend the provinces of the Empire. 

Assembled under the banner of the Royal Purple, the 
Roman eagle was the mistress of the world. 

Papal Rome, or the government of Rome under the 
Popes, reversed the rule when a province or State entered 
upon the war path. Rome was for sale. The State willing 
to surrender most of her local liberties could purchase Rome. 



PEN PICTURES. 105 

The fountain of power to increase the strength of party and 
subdue principle. Pot-house pohticians are the men who 
would imitate Papal Rome, men who work for their party 
regardless of principle, men who seek the government money 
without rendering some service to the government, act upon 
the same theory of the gambler and the rogue, and ought to 
be classed with pot-house politicians. In this connection I 
remember the words of John C. Calhoun, the great pohtical 
scholar of his day. Speaking of party, he said : '^ It is held 
together by the cohesive power of the public plunder.*' 
And the words of the more witty John Randolph, of Ro- 
anoke, upon the same subject: ''It has seven principles, 
five loaves and two fishes." 

In conclusion I speak to young men who have yet to 
come upon the stage of statesmanship; who have yet to 
learn the great principles of liberty and law ; who have yet 
to stand in the council-house of this great nation ; wno have 
yet to defend the liberties of a great people ; who have yet 
to mold the destiny of a great government. May you prove 
worthy of the task. 



LECTURE II— TIME AND MOTION. 

The back woodsman enters the forest with his ax upon 
his shoulder, gives the first impression made with human 
foot to the virgin soil; builds a log cabin; discovers the 
course that the waters run ; gives fright to the wolf and the 
Avild-cat, and proclaims the dominion of man. He then 
sinks into his grave, with no greater honor inscribed upon 
his banner than that of the brave pioneer. 

Those who come after him erect the church and the 
school-house ; open the roads ; cultivate the ground ; build 
towns and cities, and throw their banner to the breeze in- 
scribed with ' ' The Land of the Free and Home of the 
Brave." 

Like the back-woodsman, with nature's ax on my should- 
er, I venture upon untrodden ground, on the broad domain 
of mental philosophy ; here I build my cabin ; here I point 
out the course the waters of nature run ; alarm the wolves 
and the wild-cats of the social circle, and open a new field 
in mental philosophy to those who come after me. All that 
I ask or expect is the honor due to a brave pioneer. 

Time, thou venerable Sire and mysterious harvest hand, 
who gave you that old scythe that never needs the whetting 
stone, yet will not cut the thread of fate, or wound the gods. 
Is that thine only tool ? thou builder of towns and cities,, 
founder of governments and nations, and father of the arts 
and sciences. No mortal eye hath seen thy cradle ; none 
shall see thy grave. ' 



PEN PICTURES 107 

Solomon said: "There is a time to be merry and a 
time to be sad; a time to weep and a time to be glad." 
Another wise man said: ''Time makes all things even;" 
but no philosopher has ever told us what time is. What is 
time? Time is not a thing. This book is a thing; but time 
is not a thing, or, in other words, time is not a cause. Time 
is effect, or, rather, the result of motion. We assume the 
position that time is not eternity, or any part of it, a propo- 
sition that is not disputed, so far as I know, by any one. We 
have been taught that time is a part of duration. This is a 
mistake. Duration is a period of time that belongs to the 
past, and not to the future. It applies to past ages of the 
world, and cannot properly be applied to ages to come ; but 
let us establish the proposition that time is the result of mo- 
tion. The earth has two motions denominated — the annual 
and diurnal. The earth revolves around the sun in its orbit 
once in three hundred and sixty-five days, and upon its axis, 
once in twenty-four hours. Daylight and darkness were the 
first divisions of time known to primitive man. There is as 
much night as there is day, eternally, on the earth ; but, to 
any stationary point on the surface of the earth, day and 
night approaches with the rising and setting of the sun, or, 
in other words, day and night are the result of the motion of 
the earth in its diurnal revolutions, and for many ages was 
the only division of time known to antiquity. The first 
effort made by man to extend the division of time was the 
invention of an instrument called the sun-dial. 

The first mention in the Scriptures of any instrument for 
keeping time is in the second book of Kings, Chap. 20, verse 
II, and alludes to the dial of Ahaz, who lived and reigned at 
Jerusalem about 300 years after Solomon completed the tem- 
ple, and about 900 years after Joshua led the Israelites over 
the river Jordan, about 3,400 years after Adam, the first man, 
according to Jewish antiquity. 



108 PEN PICTURES. 

Thus we see, the human race had approached the 
middle of the historic period before any instrument was 
invented for keeping time, or rather we should say, for 
measuring motion. 

The first mention in the Scriptures made of the hour is 
by the prophet, Daniel, iii; 6. Daniel, when a boy, 
v.- as carried off from his native land in the Babylonian cap- 
tivity. His book was written in Babylon, and relates to 
circumstances that occurred in that country. Hence we 
infer that the Jews obtained much of their knowledge of the 
sun-dial, from the Babylonians, for we are informed by 
Greek historians that they were the first who divided the 
day into twelve equal parts. 

The face of the sun-dial does not differ materially from 
the face of the clock of the present day. While the hand of 
the clock is but an artificial shadow to point out the time or 
rather to indicate the progress of the Earth in its revolution 
upon its axis^ the motion of the clock must correspond pre- 
cisely with the motion of the Earth or the clock will not 
keep correct time. 

Clocks to run with cog-wheels were first invented in 
France in the year 996. Clocks to run with a pendulum 
were not invented until 1630; and there is not a dictionary 
or lexicon that has ever been published in the world that gives 
a true definition of the word titne. 

Stand with your face toward the east at twilight and 
observe the heavenly harnessed team of day peep over the 
eastern hills at you, then start like a sky-rocket through the 
atmosphere west, at the rate of one thousand miles an hour, 
and you will see the glorious god of day peeping over the 
eastern hills at 3^ on forever. 

Now suppose, for the sake of the argument, that you 
have a good watch in your pocket, a true time-piece, as we 
say, and that you could elevate yourself just above the high- 



PEN PICTURES. 1^)9 

<es:t peak of the mountain top and remain still— M<? sun is still 
>andyou art s'iU—your watch is right and the sun is right. 

The surface of the earth would pass you at the rate of 
one thousand miles an hour. If you were elevated at-sunrise 
the sun would be rising all the time ; if at noon it would be 
noon all the time • if at sunset it would be sunset all the tim- 
— so far as your observation would be concerned. 

Now let us suppose that you left a white flag on the Earth 
where you were elevated, 2.Xidi that you were elevated at 6 o'clock, 
when the flag comes around again you look at your watch 
and it indicates six o'clock. The flag would be your onjy 
evidence that your watch was right, and was measuring motion. 
We call the result of that measure time. 

To realize day and night we must be confined to a local 
spot on the surface of the Earth. The light of day bursts 
upon the people of New York before it arouses the sleepers 
of California, and the shades of night gather 'round the 
people of New York before the sun smks m the Pacific to 
the eyes of California. 

But why should 1 continue on this part of the subject? 
Learned and wise men everywhere agree that motion meas- 
ures time, for there is no evading the evidence -y it is a propo- 
sition that proves itself. But they say that motion does not 
produce time. I confess that motion does not produce eternity 
but contend that it does produce ti7ne. 

Here then is the tug of war. 

We find ourselves a lonely traveler in a strange land, 
weary, tired and hungry. Yonder is a cottage, let us apply 
for food and rest. We stand before the gate and inform the 
monarch of the premises that we are tired and hungry. He 
orders a sheep driven out of his lot, and pointing at it with 
his index finger says, if you don't eat that sheep, head and 
horns ^ you are not hungry. 

More than forty years ago, after having been raised in a 



110 PEN PICTURES. 

cor 71 field, I came upon the stage of action, with a diploma 
trom a log school house in the backwoods of Kentucky, hungry 
and thirsty for information, and with the elastic palate of a 
hopeful student swallowed everything — head and horns. 

To get rid of the horns, I emancipated myself from the 
tyranny of the schools, and appealed to the original copy — 
wliich is nature. 

Now it is a self-evident proposition that motion cannot 
accomplish anything without the direction of intellect. 

Then motion does not measure time but intellect measures 
motion, and we call the result of that measure time. 

Measuring time reminds me of the report made by a man 
who attempted to measure the imagi;tation. He said : * ' It is 
as large as the globe and smaller than a mustard seed — it fills 
the whole universe and you can get it in a thimble — it exists 
throughout all space and has no existence — it will make you as 
rich as a bond-holder — with it you can fill all your fields with 
cattle, and make a two-year old colt in a minute.'" 

Measure time; a moment, half a moment, here, fleeting, 
gone forever. What is time before it is measured ? or what 
is time measured out of? You can measure a piece of cloth 
because thai is a thing; you can measure a large pile of 
wheat with a small cup, but you will measure the wheat all 
up. So likewise, if time was measured out of duration, dura, 
tion would all be measured up; and if out of eternity, 
eternity would all be measured up. To say time is measured 
out of time is absurd and ridiculous nonsense. Motion no 
more measures time than the waves on the sea measure the 
water; the wave is the result of the wind, when the wind 
lulls and becomes still the ocean becomes calm — the wave 
has sunk. Time is the result of the motion of the earth; 
when the earth becomes still (if it ever does) the wave of our 
time will be lost and sink in the ocean of eternity. Hence we 



PEN PICTURES. Ill 

see the force that was in the language of the EngHsh poet 
when he said — 

The bless'd to-day, is as completely so, 
As who began a thousand years ago." 

A year of time is determined by the motion of 3. planet 
around the sun in its orbit, consequently every planet has a 
different year of lime, and just in proportion as they differ in 
their speed of motion and distance from the sun. The exact 
iime of the earth's motion around the sun in its orbit was not 
ascertained for many ages. In the morning of the historic 
period, when every man was his own astronomer, the rising 
and setting of the dog star, as it was called, was observed 
with no ordinary interest. The ancient Thebans, who first 
cultivated astronomy in Egypt, determined the length of the 
year by the number of its rismgs. The Egyptians watched 
it with mingled apprehensions of hope and fear; it foretold 
the rising of the river Nile and admonished them to sow their 
fields. Julius Caesar came very near regulating the calendar, 
but the astronomers in his day, in their observations of the 
earth in its orbit, made an error of eight minutes and forty- 
eight seconds^ and it was found in 1582 that in the run of 
1648 years the true time was ten days ahead of the recorded 
time, and m order to reach the true time without disturbing 
the records of all Christendom, the Pope of Rome issued a 
proclamation, or bull, calling the 5ih day of October the 15th. 
And this is the origin of old and new style of time. You 
have all heard of old Christ?naSy when the cows kneel at mid- 
night, the chickens crow, and the dogs bark. The new 
style of time was not adopted in England until 1752 — one 
hundred and seventy years after the correction — in the reign 
of George II. 

The revolution of the earth around the sun in its orbit 
determines a year of time and always did, though it required 



11-2 



PEN PICTURES 



mapy ages to ascertain that fact. While the earth passes 
around the sun in its orbit once, it revolves upon its axis 366 
times and only produces 365 days. And this brings us to 
consider solar and siderial time or solar and siderial motion. 

We can best represent it by the hands of a clock. You 
must remember that the motion of the earth in its orbit and 
upon its axis are both in the same direction. The earth rises 
up from the west, so to speak, and turns to the east in its 
diurnal revolutions, causing the approach of day and night 
to every local spot upon its surface. The motion of the earth 
in its orbit is also from west to east, rising up, so to speak, 
ninety-five millions of miles above the sun, and sinking the 
same distance "below the sun. 

The orbit of the earth is perpendicular, and not horizon- 
tal, as up and down, appear to our senses. Now let us call 
the motion or speed of the hour hand the earth's orbit, and 
the motion of the minute hand the earth's axis. We now 
place both hands at twelve o'clock, and say that it is noon 
or the sun is on the meridian. When the minute hand 
passes round and comes again to the figure 12, the earth has 
accomplished one revolution upon its axis ; but the earth has 
also moved one degree in the same direction, as represented 
by the hour hand, consequently the earth must move one 
•degree further to overtake the hour hand and bring the sun 
on the meridian again. This distance is divided into 365 
•degrees. One is lost every day, consequently in ^66 revolu- 
tions of the earth upon its axis we realize only 365 days, and 
this is solar and siderial time, or solar and siderial motion. 

There is another illustration of this problem. Let three 
men agree that one shall start around the earth, traveling 
east, and that one shall make the same journey, traveHng 
west, and the third shall remain at the place of starting. Each 
man shall keep a correct tally of every day that transpires in 
a year, by cutting a notch on a stick. At the end of the 



PEN PICTURES. 113 

year the two travelers return, having traversed the globe, and 
compare notes. The one who remained stationary will have 
365 notches ; the one who traveled east will have 364 notches; 
the one who traveled west will have 366 notches. Now, 
if these men were measuring or keeping time, they would 
agree. The fact is, they have measured motion and have not 
measured tvne. One traveled with the motion of the earth, 
and maintained solar time; the other traveled against the 
motion of the earth, and gained one day. 

A month or a week is an artificial division of time, 
adopted for convenience. Seven days have been called a 
week from the remotest antiquity of the Jews. Prior to the 
reign of Numa Pompilius, the second King of Rome, the year 
was divided into ten months, or thirteen moons. 

The motion of the earth produces the time of the earth, 
or what we recognize as our time ; for every planet has its 
own motion, and consequently its own time. 

When the earth ceases to move (if it ever does), our 
time will also cease; but the time on the other planets will 
not cease, if they continue in their motion. We can comparie 
their motions with the motions of the eaith, and note the 
difference in their time and our time. 

If the earth was bursted to make moons for some other 
planet, we have no evidence that the motion of the other 
planets would be changed or altered, and as long as they 
maintain their motion they will maintain their time. 

The planet Venus revolves upon her axis once in 23 
hours, 21 minutes, and 7 seconds, consequently her day is 
about twenty-five minutes shorter than ours. She passes 
around the sun in her orbit in seven and a half months of our 
time. While the earth measures two years, Venus deals out 
three years and forty-five days to her inhabitants. 

The planet Mars is the bright star that we saw in the 
east in September and October, a little after sunset. Hfe 



114 PEN PICTURES. 

revolves upon his axis in 24 hours, 37 minutes, and 23 sec- 
onds, consequently his day is about forty-two minutes longer 
than ours. He passes around the sun in his orbit in twenty- 
two and a half months of our time, consequently it takes 
nearly two of our years to make one for the planet Mars. 

Those two planets are next to the earth — Venus on the 
inside and Mars on the outside track. 

But let us go 'way yonder near the edge of the solar sys- 
tem, and observe the planet Jupiter He revolves upon his 
axis in 9 hours, 55 minutes, and 50 seconds, consequently he 
crowds two of his days into one of ours, and has about four 
hours left. He stands boldly out from the sun a distance of 
495 millions of miles — 400 millions of miles further from the 
sun than the earth is — and he moves around the sun in his 
orbit in a little less than twelve of our years, consequently 
while a boy of his inhabitance is arriving at twelve years of 
age, one of our boys would become a venerable sire of one 
hundred and forty-four years. 

Now let us visit all of the planets we have named, and 
take the watch with us. When we arrive on the velvet shores 
of Venus we will move the regulator of the watch — the spring 
that regulates the motion of the watch — so it will run twenty- 
five minutes fast in a day, and when we meet the Monarch of 
that planet we can tell him the time of day — because our 
watch is brought precisely to the motion of his planet, or 
world. 

When we arrive on the bloody shores of the planet Mars 
we will deaden the main spring of the 'watch, so it will run 
forty-two minutes slow in a day, and we will have the time 
or measure of the motion of that planet. 

But when we arrive on the distant shores of Jupiter 
what can we do with the watch ? We will have to double 
the power of the main spring of our watch to keep the time 
or measure the motion of that planet — because he revolves on 



PEN PICTURES. 115 

his axis twice while the earth revolves onccy and has about four 
hours left. 

Does not these illustrations make it clear that clocks and 
watches measure motion ? 

What, then, is time ? The result of motion; or, in other 
words, motion produces time, but does not produce eternity. 

What then is duration ? As I said before, duration is a 
period of time that belongs to the past. Mark what I say — 
for all of the wise men of the past, from Numa Pompilius to 
the Pope of Rome — all learned authorities, both sacred and 
profane — have said that time is a part of duration. They put 
the cart before the horse — duration is a part of time, and 
belongs to the past. It is a law of nature that effect cannot 
precede cause ; no man can build a house before he prepares 
the materials. Duration is the sum of motion, and cannot 
exist before that motion is performed. Rome was founded 
750 years before the Christian era; that is, the earth. accom- 
plished 750 revolutions around the sun in its orbit from the 
founding of Rome until the inauguration of Christianity. That 
750 years is a period of time, or a part of time, that we call 
duration, and belongs to the past, iioo years transpired — 
that IS, the earth made iioo revolutions around the sun in its 
orbit from the time Solomon built the temple at Jerusalem 
until the birth of Christ. And, according to the most ap- 
proved system of archaeology, 5440 years transpired — that is, 
the earth made 5440 revolutions around the sun, from the 
creation by Moses until the meek and lowly Jesus preached 
His Gospel on the mount in Palestine 

All of those are periods of duration recorded on the page 
of history. But if you wish a more extended idea of dura- 
tion, go back with me behind the historic period — go back a 
hundred thousand years — go back a hundred thousand cen- 
turies — go back a hundred million of centuries — go back un- 
til the mind turns upon itself, and there is an idea not yet 



116 PEN PICTURES, 

expressed — eternity. Turn the imagination loose, and go for- 
ward, but remember, duration does not express the idea, an- 
ticipation is before, duration is behind — time has disappeared. 

Observe the intellect, solitary and alone, in the broad 
field of space. Space, Dy affinity, is eternity — an open field 
without end— a fit home, for eternity can not dwell in a 
local spot. Time and motion belong to the planets. The 
planets belong to space. The forecast of intellect, may re- 
alize eternity — and nere we pause, on the distant border of 
human thought, for we come not here again until the close of 
our last lecture. Getting down upon the ground-work of 
nature and her laws, I come to speak of Motion. 

Motion, is a principle. I hold my hand here, and move 
it there. My hand is a thing, but the change of its position 
is a principle — motion — and it ls the first principle of nature. 
The whole universe is in motion. The sun is still to his 
planets, but the sun, together with his planets, are moving 
through the broad field of space around an unknown center. 
The flowers ot the field, the majestic oak, the vegetable, and 
all of the animal kingdom, could not be developed without 
the principle of motion. Our broad and beautiful fields that 
wave with golden heads on the days of harvest — our towns, 
villages and cities, and the iron horse that consolidates them 
into one^city — together with all the works of nature and of 
art. The broad and placid river, that bears the products of 
our labor on its bosom, as it rolls on in its majesty to the 
ocean, and the river itself, is the result of the principle of 
motion. 

Water^ in small and minute particles, traverses the at- 
mosphere, condensing, it falls to the ground m drops of rain, 
and fills up the rivulets, that wind their wandering way across 
the valleys, and fill up the rivers, and the rivers traversing 
a continent, return to the ocean. Not only on this conti- 
nent, but aiso the continents of Europe, Africa and Asia — 



PEN PICTURES. in 

not only on the continents of earth, but on all the planets 
that belong to the solar system, and all of these streams of 
water are produced by the heai of the sun, but the heat of 
sun does not produce the water So, likewise, the fleeting 
moments of tmie, fill up the minutes, the minutes fill up the 
hours, the hours fill up the days, the days fill up the years, 
the years fill up the centuries, and the centuries roll on in 
their majesty, to the ages, not only upon earth, but on all 
the planets that belong to the solar system. And all of these 
streams of time are produced by motion. But motion does 
not produce the universe. By the term universe, we do not 
allude alone to the solar system, but to the broad expanse of 
the unfolded heavens. The ancients had a very obscure 
idea of the heavens. The telescope was invented in 1588, 
and improved by Galileo, who was compelled by a supersti- 
tious court, on the 28th day of June, 1633, at the peril of 
his life, to deny with his lips the great facts that science and 
nature had unfolded to his truthful heart. 

Go with me to the telescope, on a clear night, when the 
pulse of all pre-conceived ideas is still; observe the one hun- 
dred million of fixed stars — they are called fixed because they 
are so remote from the earth, that the orbit of the earth, one 
hundred and ninety millions of miles, produces no percepti- 
ble change in their locality. They are supposed to be suns 
as large as ours, with planets revolving 'round them. And 
on those planets are rivers as long as the Missouri, and broad 
as the Amazon, and mountains and valleys, filled with life 
and motion. Go on in the imagination beyond the utmost 
limits of telescopic vision, and w.e are lost in wonder. Every 
spark of light is a world. God is everywhere. When 
this glorious revelation is unfolded to our view, we are less 
concerned with the philosophy of creation, than we are in 
asking ourselves the question : Will man sleep in the grave 
for even* This question will be more fully answered at the 



118 PEN PICTURES. 

close of our lectures, but for the satisfaction of the impa- 
tient, we answer, no. It is contrary to all nature, and to 
everything that we see made manifest around us, to suppose 
that the mind perishes like the body. Nature is always true 
to herself. An organ of the human brain, has painted a 
great castle, in which there is every delight to entertain, 
amuse and instruct the intellect, where there is no pain, no 
sorrow and no weeping; where the aisles and the walks stretch 
a-w-a-y y-o-n-d-e-r beyond the remotest conception of the 
human brain; where pleasure flows in upon the travelers 
from innumerable avenues on every foot of the way ; where 
departed friends who have been made dear to the heart by 
the warmest ties of affection, are met again. But the castle 
is elevated, and we have no ladder to reach it. Oh ! wretched 
man that I am, who shall deliver me from this dead body? 

We shall, in the course of these lectures, endeavor to 
unfold the beautiful principles of nature. But for the pres- 
ent we must return to the philosophy of motion. We have 
spoken of the motion of the universe, we must now speak of 
motion with regard to man. The field is broad and full of 
beautiful illustrations. We only call your attention to one. 
It is one that reflects many others. I take hold of anything 
with my right hand and throw it 'round with more ease than 
I do with my left hand, and why? Because the principle of 
motion has been more thoroughly applied to my right, than 
it has to my left hand. And this principle holds good 
throughout all nature. 

Take two little boys, of equal endowment and physical 
strength. (Your arms are equal in infancy.) Educate one 
of them, as you educate the right hand, and educate the 
other, as you educate the left hand. When they arrive to 
manhood there will be the same difference between them, 
that there is between the right and the left hand, and from 



PEN PICTURES liy 

the same cause, and this principle holds good mentally as well 
as physically. 

The first and great principle of nature, is motion, action, 
industry. There is no greatness attainable in any calling 
without it, €\\}ciQ'c physically or mentally. Great men m all 
ages, and among all nations, have worked their way up from 
the bottom. Like a seed cast upon the earth, to rise up and 
unfold the branches, the blossoms, and the fruit, whose ten- 
der buds are first directed by the delicate hand of a faithful 
mother. 

Henry Clay, the great American statesman^ was once a 
mill boy, and rode an old blind horse through the swamps of 
his native State, on a bag of meal. The gentle breeze that 
rustled through the infant locks, clustering beneath a home- 
made cap, may have whispered in a still small voice the liv- 
ing principle of motion. Without fame and without fortune, 
but with industry and integrity, hq winged a golden way from 
the swamps of his native State, to the mountain-top of fame 
in the United States. 

If there be in this assembly, any little boy upon whom 
fortune has frowned, I mean as to money; to him I say, go to 
work mentally, preserve the body and the brain from ali de- 
moralizing influences, ponder over the experience of past 
ages by the midnight lamp, and as certain as the sun rises id 
the future you will meet your reward. 

If you have no mother, and those to whom you are 
amenable are neglecting your character, go to work, and 
build up your own character, lay the foundation stones deep 
in the ground, run the walls up plumb and true, let every part 
of the edifice meet the eye of the beholder in harmony, and 
you will become a great man. 

Julius Caesar has been dead 1922 years, imperishable 
fame is stamped on his name, with no counseler but ambition, 
and no friend but his sword, he crossed the Rubicon and lam 



120 PEN PICTURES. 

the foundation of the Roman Empire If you have no de- 
sire to become Caesar, and wish to make a dog of yourself, 
go sleep in the barn, lay 'round the premises, and scratch 
fleas, feed on the crumbs thrown out at the door, and the first 
thing you know, you will begm to bark. 

One more word to doubtful men, and I conclude. If 
there be in this assembly any one who feels aggrieved at this 
discourse, because it contains more philosophy than it does 
religion, to them I say, the bones of my ancestors for six 
generations, sleep beneath the green sod in the church-yards 
of my native land. They filled their cups from the measure 
of faith offered up in their day. It would not become a brave 
manhood, to throw a spot of tarnish on their memory, or 
leave their tombs for the home of the bat and the owl. r or 
all that I am, and all that 1 hope to be, in this life, or in the 
life to come, is justly due to early impressions, made upon a 
youthful brain by a christian mother. 



LECTURE III.— MIND AND ORGANISM. 

Nothing that is not solid, true and refined — dare asic public 
audience of mankind. 

Mental philosophy has engaged the attention of the wise 
men of the world, in all ages, and among all nations. Zoroas- 
ter among the Persians, Plato among the Greeks, and St. 
Paul among the Jews, left impressions behind them on the 
subject of 7nental philosophy, that will last as long as the brain 
will think, or stamp a thought in marble transmitted to poster- 
ity. When we look back upon primitive man, we see him 
destitute of the arts and sciences, rude, and barbarous to his 
own species. And when we observe the centuries rolling on, 
turning up at each revolution some new discovery and unfold- 
ing principles that contribute to the comfort of man, physi- 
cally and mentally, the question naturally presents itself to us, 
Why do men become wiser ? Wliat is it, that illuminates the 
path-way of every art and of every science ? What is the 
motive power impelling the onward march of our civilization ? 
Who has ever unfolded the dominion of mind over matter? 

That mind or intellect is in the universe, no one will dis- 
pute. But how produced, and how sustained, is the question. 
We proceed upon the theory, that the brain is the seat, of 
head-quarters of the mind. Does the mind originate in the 
brain, or is it external ? 

I shall offer you some startling; evidences that mind is ex- 
ternal, a principle or element prevading the universe, and 



122 PEN PICTURES. 

this is a new departure from the great cardinal principles laid 
down by the old philosophers. 

We live in a progressive age, while every art and every 
science has advanced with wonderful rapidity, mental philos- 
ophy has been left to slumber in the tomb of the dark ages. 

But let us proceed with the evidence, sustaining the prop 
osition, that mind is external. 

The variegated colors of the rainbow, the view of the hea- 
vens and of the earth, together with all the visible beauties of 
nature, are introduced to the brain by external means, for the 
eye is but the window of the brain ; and as the rays of the 
light of the sun, reveal and display all of the visible beauties 
of the universe, so also, the rays of the great star of intellect, 
reveal and display all of the beauties of wisdom. 

When we are in a dark room, we see dimly ; when we 
come out to the light, we see plainly. In our native igno. 
ranee, we are mentally bHnd, whether it be the childhood of 
a nation, or an individual ; when we are brought out to the 
light of experience by the institutions of our predecessors, we 
sec plainly many things that we did not see in our native ig- 
norance. If you say that equal instruction should equally 
enlighten all men, I answer, it would, if all men were en- 
dowed with the same mental glass, but this is not the case, 
for while some are endowed with a mental glass thin and 
transparent, others are thick, cast in the dark, so dead and 
opaque in themselves, that the concentrated rays of the great 
star of intellect would not penetrate them in forty years. \The 
eyes, the ears, the nose, the tongue and the nerves of , the 
body, are all external and visible organs of the brain,^' by 
which information is received. 

No man can see with his ears or hear with his eyes, can^ 
love whom he hates or hate whom he loves, and when he is 
mentally deaf to the notes of music, it is no evidence that 
he is mentally deaf to the voice of love ; and every organ of 



PEN PICTURES. 123 

X\ L ?»rain performs its office precisely in proportion to its 
capacity. A man with good eyes sees well, with g©od ears 
hears well, and this brings us to consider upon the internal 
and invisible organs of the brain. 

The organ of music is more plainly and better developed 
in som^e races of men than it is in others, and in some indi- 
viduals of the same race than in others. The organs of self- 
esteem, combativeness, hope, the love of home, and many 
others, are more fully developed in some individuals than in 
others. All men do not see alike, pride alike, love alike, or 
stay at home alike. In accordance with the organism of the 
brain do they act. We conclude, therefore, that the brain 
is a set of organs animated by a principle or element pervad- 
ing the universe. 

Let us make an effort to identify the internal with the 
external organs of the brain. We will d9 so by asking a sup- 
posed individual a few plain questions. Why did you not 
see the proces&ion that came to town this morning ? Because 
my eyes have been put out. Why did you not hear the roll- 
ing of the wheels and the tramp of the horses ? Because my 
ears have failed; I am deaf. Why did you not smell that 
remarkable odor that accompanied the train ? Because my 
nose is stopped up; I have a dreadful cold. 

Let us restore the external mental organs and continue 
the questions. Why did you not imitate the beautiful music 
that was in the procession? Because I cannot sing; I have 
no ear for music. Why did you not draw a pencil picture of 
the train? Because I have no mechanism, no talent for 
drawing. Why did you not stand erect and show yourself 
to the best advantage while the train was passing ? Because 
I have no self-esteem. But, an objector says, that is phre- 
nology, and no proof that mind is external. I answer — It 
identifies mental organism. 

We will now proceed with another class of evidences 



124 PEN PICTURES. 

that makes it clear that mind is a living principle pervading 
the universe. Observe that industrious mechanic. He is up 
early and bright in the morning, full of hope and action, de- 
termined to earn an honest living for himself and family. 
His eyes behold all the beauties of nature, his ears note every 
sound of his hammer, his genius or mechanism trace every 
line of his pencil. His days work is over; he faithfully 
returns to his domicile ; the last scene of the day closes upon 
our observation. His garments arc laid aside; stretched 
upon his couch he closes his eyes, shutting out the light of 
the world; the busy bustle of the day is over and the pulse 
of the town is still, all the nerves of his body have ceased 
to vibrate ; the organs of his brain are all closed ; he is held 
in the sweet embrace of nature's soft nurse ; the man is asleep; 
his mind is gone ; intellect does not sleep ; it is organism ; 
every organ in the brain closes up like the eye, and this is the 
lethargy we call sleep — death's half brother. 

When there is no concert of action or harmony with the 
brain organs in closing up, when they are all closed, except 
the organs of memory and fancy or imagination, we realize 
what we call restless sleep, disturbed sleep, the sleep of 
mesmerism, somnambuhsm, and all other kinds of sleep that 
produce wonderful dreams to delight and afflict humanity. 

Do not understand us to say that our brain organs are 
all in action when we are awake, for this would be an error. 
Few persons can laugh and cry at the same time. No man 
can be in a good humor and angry at the same time. Asleep 
or awake we do one thing at a time. Persons sometimes 
walk ana handle thmgs m theii sleep, but when the organ of 
time is brought into action we are awake. 

Now let us put the proposition that the mind is external 
to another test. Let us take a man that you have all known 
for many years to be an honest man and a good citizen. He 
ha? mer with a sad misfortune; lost his pocket-book; close 



PEN PICTURES. 125 

the door and let us detect the thief. Hold ! I made a mis- 
take in regard to the article. He has lost his mind. Where 
shall we go to look for it and how can we describe it ? Let 
us take him to the lunatic asylum; the doctors will apply 
soothing remedies to his brain, and if they succeed in restor- 
ing a healthy action to his mental organs they will find his 
mind. But where will they find it ? They will find it ready 
to enter his brain as soon as good health to organism is 
restored. They will find it where the sleeping man finds it 
when he awakes; they will find that it is an element pervad- 
ing the universe. 

Our mental organs are subject to disease ; we go blind, 
deaf, or crazy. Sometimes the eye is affected, and we see 
two objects where there is but one. When the eye is restored 
we see nature as it is. Every organ in the brain may thus 
be disturbed, until a man will not see nature in a natural way. 
To him friends are enemies, love is hatred, reason is fiction, 
and affection worthless ; he is crazy. Sometimes one of the 
internal and invisible organs of the brain is afflicted and dis- 
eased, while the others are not. We have a monomaniac. 

There is a case recorded in history of a wealthy man 
who was said to be crazy. The accusation was brought by 
his brother, and it was supposed that the brother wished to 
get possession of his property. The case was taken into 
court; the learned attorneys questioned him for more than 
an hour without getting the slightest evidence of insanity. 
The judge and a crowded court room were almost ready to 
declare the man sane, when some one whispered in the ear 
of the plaintiff, '^Ask him about religion." The moment 
the question was put he rose to his feet and exclaimed, "/ 
am the Christ!'' He was insane on the subject of religion; 
upon all other subjects perfectly rational. 

A man may be blind, but while he is blind it is no evi- 
dence that he is deaf. The open and visible organs of the 



126 PEN PICTURES. 

brain are manifest to all men. The invisible mental organs 
are only revealed by the deepest research. The case of the 
monomaniac stands before you as one of my witnesses. 
Cross-examine hmi, dissect his mind, otherwise, if you can. 

Careful reflection upon the subject of mental philosophy 
opens every man's eyes. The light of the sun will not illu_ 
minate the brain if you shut your eyes. And the light of the 
great star of mtellect will not illuminate the brain if you shut 
the eyes of your mental organs, permit them to remain clos- 
ed, or become diseased. When the eyes grow dim we put on 
glasses, when self esteem is low we put on a new coat and 
feel prouder, when we disagree in philosophy we should put 
on the mantle of charity. 

We will now call your attention to the last case in this 
class of evidences. 

The mind can be expelled from the brain by a chemical 
operation, and therefore must be external. Let us take anoth- 
er sensible man, whom we all know to be a sensible man in 
every sense of the word manhood, give him a gill of whisky 
and a chemical operation commences in his stomach, repeat 
the dose and the chemicals begin to simmer, repeat again, 
and again and they begin to boil; the man is drunk ; not only 
drunk, he is also a fool. His mind has been expelled from 
his brain — steam occupies its place. Cool down the steam 
with ice water and .buttermilk, get the man sober, and his 
mind returns. Oh ! God, is not that a noble principle hover- 
ing 'round a wretched man ; while his body is wallowing in 
the mud ; as soon as he can raise his head and wipe the mud 
from his brow, deserted reason, insulted and abused, without 
warrant or authority, kindly re-enters the brain. 

If there be in this assembly any who feel aggrieved 
at this description of a drunken man, to ihem I say, it is with 
no feelings of animosity against the man, for the man ].a: 



PEN PICTURES. 127 

been driven out of the body, and it is the body that is drunk 
and degraded. 

Many years ago, before the days of the red ribbon, I 
hved in a southern village. In the dusk of the evening I saw 
a man, or rather the body of a man, fall upon the sidewalk. 
With two other friends we approached that body \ we met the 
steam of whisky; not dead, but drunk. We carried that 
body into a back-room and laid it on a bed. The face indi- 
cated the Caucasian race, the costume r^spectabihty, nothing 
more did that body reveal. There was no mind there ; no 
tnan there ; to us that body was a stranger. We all turned in 
and slept through the night. Who do you suppose came early 
next morning and claimed that body. Bill Jones, a man who 
Hved at a distance, and whom we all knew by reputation, for 
Bill was a public man. We preserved the body, God pre- 
served the mind, and when the mind came back Bill Jones 
came with it. 

W^e now leave Bill Jones and return to the subject of all 
subjects. The foundation stone and bed rock of all philosophy 
is intellect. 

I do not claim the ability to unfold all the beauties of in- 
tellect, I feel like a stranger in a woodland country, only 
blazing a pathway that may be worked out into a highway by 
some more learned and illustrious mind, who may this night, 
couched in infant garb, be slumbering in some log cabin, 
somewhere in the broad domain of our beautiful land, or 
way forward in ths future womb of time, to come upon the 
stage of action when I have mingled with the worthless trash 
of time, to forget and. be forgotten. 

We live in a great country, our people are awakening 
from a long night of ignorance. The 7nodus operandi of 
mental improvement is just beginning to emerge above the 
eastern horizon of our civilization. We who live to-day are 
only standing in the twilight of the great star of intellect, 



128 PEN PICTURES 

that will illuminate like a noon- day sun all coming genera- 
tions of men. 

Sleep on, sweet babe — the gentle influences of wzW will 
gradually arouse thy torpid brain. The infant brain is like a 
casket with blank pages, which is to be closely printed, and 
positively stereotyped by eternal circumstances. 

Let us go to that fond American mother and take her little 
son, nine months old. We will not take the child ruthlessly 
from the mother's arms, but let us take him for the sake of 
the argument. Transport him across the water, place him in 
a French family ; the French woman will be as kind to him as 
his own mother; raise him up in all the beauties of manhood. 
But he will speak the French language and not understand a 
word of the language of his mother tongue. So, likewise if 
you take the infant of a French lady and give it to an Amer- 
ican woman, it will speak the English language. And if you 
would take the infant of a Christian mother and give it to the 
better-half of a cut-throat, far removed from good society, in 
some dark retreat, struggling for existence by robbery and 
theft, I care not how kind the adopted parents of that child 
may be (in their way) vv^hen he grows up to manhood, he v/ill 
be a cut-throat and a robber. And if a Christian woman go 
like guardian angel into this dark retreat, and take an infant 
born to those people, transport it across the gulf, that will 
separate it from its nativity, surround it with good society, 
and raise it up in a Christian family, that boy will become a 
good citizen and an honest man. 

These are general rules, from which there is no appeal 
except to the laws of hereditary descent, of which we intend 
to speak. Would to God, that I could indelibly impress 
these facts upon the brain of every mother in America. 

Teach your children the bright lessons of temperance, 
virtue, truth and honesty; stamp them on the infant brain, 
and you will elevate the manhood of your country. No 



PEN PICTURES. 129 

^reat man ever had a common mother. God's blessing is 
upon the mother of every bright little boy if she will heed 
the voice of nature. Do not talk to your Jfttle son like he 
was a puppy ; talk to him like you would to a man, arid you 
will cultivate his manhood to rise up iji a tower of strength, 
and vindicate the memory of his mother. 

And let me say to every mother in this assembly, if you 
are oppressed by hard-favored-fortune, and see others around 
you enjoying things you can not have, be not discouraged. 
Remember that your intellect is the storehouse of your 
children. There must they go for the precious jewels of dis- 
tinction that will shine upon the garments of their character, 
in the crowded highways of the world. There must they go 
for the oil to illuminate their pathway through the darkest 
deserts of the land. Turn them not away with empty hands, 
and when the last scene has closed upon their eyes, and the 
last word is spoken by the lips, that word will be God and 
my mother. 

The infant loves the brightest Hght, with what unabating 
tenacity it will gaze at the burning lamp. The eye is a mental 
organ, and all of our mental organs love the brightest lights. 
When the light of evil is held up in brilliant colors the young 
mind is attracted in that direction. Oh ! how many mothers 
we see who are so engaged with household work that the 
little child is given up to the care of a wicked and ignorant 
nurse. The force of education is acknowledged by all parties 
yet but few seem to observe the early period of its com- 
mencement. 

When we have no eyes, we do not recognize the light 
of the sun, though the whole universe is filled with light. 
And if we fail to be just, virtuous, and happy, it is not be- 
cause there is no justice, virtue, and happiness, it is because 
we have no mental organs to receive the impressions; it is 
because we have not cultiva-ted these organs. 



130 PEN PICTURES. 

Some say that this philosophy destroys moral accounta- 
bility. To them I answer : If every father in the land would 
refuse to lend the aid of his strong arms, to anything that 
produces evil, and every mother in the land would stamp 
upon the infant brain of her children, the bright lessons of 
virtue, truth and honesty^ for three generations, the Devil 
would have to camp out, for he would not find enter- 
tainment in the humblest cottage in the land. 

One generation works for the benefit of the next. How 
many fathers toil through sunshine and storm, for half a cen- 
tury, to lay up a store of gold for their children, and send 
them out into the broad world with full pockets and empty 
heads. How many mothers labor from the dawn of day until 
the dusk of evening, brushing the dust from her chambers 
and darkening up her rooms, that no bright ray of Jight may 
approach her infant, in its cradle. 

Oh! mistaken 7nother, hear a lesson from the Mammoth 
Cave, m Kentucky, in that cave tlere is a river, in that river 
there is fish, and those fish have no eyes. No bright ray of 
light ever goes to that river and the eye of the fish not being 
illuminated, disappears. 

Oh ! how cruel I to shut up a little prattling babe in a dark 
place. Throw it around loose, if you wish the windows of 
its brain, and looking-glass of its soul, to beam with beauty. 

One generation lives for another mentally as well as phys- 
ically. We should all remember that for all that we are, as 
good men and women, we are indebted to our parents, and 
the society in which we were reared. 

Now let us suppose, for the sake of the argument, that 
we perform all kinds of misdeeds, and practice all kinds of 
evil, for any considerable length of time. With this example 
before our children the race would go back to barbarism. 

Old men are passing away. This great country with its 
lakes andlits rivers, towns and cities, government and destiny. 



PEN PICTURES. 131 

will soon be transmitted to the hands of our children : many 
of whom are now in the blossom of infancy, and arms of 
their mothers . 

There is no patriotism in all the wide world, that equals 
true love of children. He who has no sympathy for the 
children, and will do nothing for the benefit of posterity, is 
no friend of his country. He is wandering in doubt and 
darkness, no bright ray of light from the great star of intel- 
lect has ever penetrated the dark recesses of his brain. 

Whenever I see (if I shall live to see), the great m.inds 
of the country, taking hold of evil by the horns, and remov- 
ing the bulls of error out of the pale of society, and leading 
our children to the fountains of nature, baptizing them in the 
water of progress, I will feel like St. John when he said : ''I 
saw an angel come down from heaven ; having the key of the 
bottomless pit, and a great chain in his hand, and he laid 
hold of the dragon— that old serpent— which is the Devil and 
Satan, and bound him a thousand years.' 

It is an easy going hobby-horse to charge the short-com- 
ings of humanity to the Devil. Society molds the character 
of her children. When a good mold is cast— the Devil- 
is cast out. Society molds the minds of our youth, this fact 
all parents feel— they may deny it with the lips. But let the 
villainous face of vice approach the sacred nursery of their 
children, and they will confess it with the truthful heart. 

If you want morality, you must cultivate it in the infant 
brain, not in a few isolated cases but throughout the broad 
neighborhood. You had as well plant corn without turning the 
hogs out of the field, as raise your children surrounded with - 
the sinks of corruption. 

How many, in our towns and cities, have parlors shut 
up with thousands for the moth to eat. Go to them with 
the common school tax, and they think the Devil is after 
'em with a sharp stick. 



132 PEN PICTURES. 

When a new idea comes upon the stage, it comes as a 
stranger. And if its mission be to a crowd the old idea off 
the stage, there is a herculean task before it. The old idea, 
though it may be false philosophy, has its old friends and 
associates. Everybody knows it and everybody is ready to 
assist it. The new idea must fight single-handed and alone. 
Thus we see in all ages of the world, new ideas have appear- 
ed and sunk again, to remain in the dark for ages. 

When Galileo told the people that the earth moved, 
the old idea that the earth was the center of the universe, 
backed by a host of friends, crowded the new idea off the 
stage, to slumber in darkness until it was.. resurrected by Sir 
Isaac Newton. 

I come now to speak of mind more in detail, and of its 
power on the mental organs. Thought is the result of action, 
the action of anything is the result of power. The running 
boy, or the walking man, whose steps are directed by the 
roind, is slow to realize that fact, because some of the opera- 
tions of the mind are so refined, that they are almost imper- 
ceptible. When asleep or dead we do not walk or run. 

There is a living power and a mental poVer, mysterious- 
ly bl-nded in the elements of nature. No silent brain ever 
thinks, while in that condition. Hence the sleeping man 
does not think, yet he does live. And upon -this mysterious 
separation of the mental and the living power, we conclude 
that life developes organism, and the mental element operat- 
ing upon the brain organs p*ioduces sensation, which is the 
dividing link between the vegetable and animal kingdom, and 
the ground-work of the mental light of the world. That life 
developes organism without producing sensation, thought or 
mind, is a fact known to all physicians, and to every student 
of nature. 

Life and mind are two parallel powers, running in the 
same direction, and apparently working with the same tools. 



PEN PICTURES. 133 

Life builds the house, mind occupies it, that is its residence 
is in the mental organs. The body may become diseased, 
broken down, the tenement so shattered, that life is almost 
extinct; while the mind remains romantic and bright as the 
morning star. On the other hand the body may remain firm 
and bucksome, as a blue-head buffalo, and the mind dwindle 
into a narrow channel, as dark as the valley of death, and 
gloomy as the image of night. 

The character of all our sensations is produced by the 
mental organ, brought into action. The sound of a bell pro- 
duces a sensation on the brain, through a mental organ— M^ 
ear. 

Form, shape and beauty produce a sensation on the 
brain, through a mental organ, the eye. 

The mental element passing through the organ of com- 
bativeness produces a sensation on the brain, but it is not a 
sensation of love, and when the mental element passes 
through the organ of love it will not produce a sensation of 
hatred. 

The crowded streets of a commercial city produce a sen- 
sation on the brain, but it is not a sensation of solitude. 

Go with me to the deep confines of a distant valley, 
where no trace of human foot is found. The wild flowers 
unfold their beauty by the side of the brook. The vine 
chngs to the branch of the majestic oak with unabating te- 
nacity. The blue arch of heaven terminates the vision and 
a sensation is produced on the brain. It is sohtude, admira- 
tion and awe. 

All of our sensations are received through the mental 
organs, and where there is no brain organ for any given sen- 
sation, passion or feeling, that feeling cannot be produced. 

But the old philosophers say mind is internal, produced 
by the brain, and power of hfe, and here we lo-k horns. 
We have stripped this old philosophy of its overcoat. Now 



134 PEN PICTURES. 

let us take its undergarments, not with a graceless grasp, but 
with the tender fingers of nature's soft hand. 

The old philosophers say life produces brain and brain 
produces mind inseparably and indistinct. Ocular demons- 
tration compels them to admit that mind is sometimes absent 
from the brain while life is not. In this case life ceases to 
produce mind. How is this ? What checks the thought of 
a sleeping man? Let every one in this assembly stop think- 
ing. Stop. Don't think about anything. It is impossible, yet 
when you sleep your thought stops. 

The old philosophers say when you sleep the engineer 
shuts off .steam. This engineer incognito in the waking state 
has had different names in different ages of the world. He 
is now usually called free will. He is a good engineer, but 
not alwayp; on duty. He sometimes permits the fireman to 
usurp his office. This fireman hai also h.-^d different names 
in different ages of the world. He is now called Old Nick.^ 
He is a good fireman but a bad engineer. His object is to 
run off the track. He would have been discharged long ago, 
but he keeps up the sham. 

Free will is constantly admonished to watch Old Nick, 
for they say that when the grave station is passed, if Old 
Nick is not subdued, he'll kick free will overboard and run 
the thing off the track. 

Personifying the passions or mental organs is one of the 
relics of the dark ages. 

The Greeks and Romans were the first phrenologists in 
the world. They predicated upon the organ of oombativeness 
the existence of God Mars, who delighted in the blood and 
carnage of the battle field. 

They placed a bandage over the eyes of Cupid to estab- 
lish the axiom that love hides a multitude of faults. No won- 
der the Hebrew prophet exclaimed, man is strange and 
wonderfully made. 

=:-• The De%Ml 



PEN PICTURES. 135 

As I said before when a man sleeps his brain organs all 
close up like the eye. When he awakes the light illuminates 
his brain through the eye and the mental element illuminates 
his brain through the brain organs, and he is immediately 
under the influence of his will? Not so, but of experience 
and desire. Experience is the Hght of the past, desire the 
gratification of the passions. 

Do not understand me to say a man has no will, for that 
would be an error. I say his will is formed or brought into 
being by predominating passions. It may be half white, but 
it is not free born. 

Experience teaches us that honey is sweet and the bee 
will sting. If the sensation of appetite is stronger than the 
sensation of fear we will take the honey. 

We see the way before us. The sensations of vice invite 
us on, while the sensations of virtue hold us back. 

A struggle of sensations here ensues that is forcibly de- 
scribed by St. Paul : '' The good that I would I do not, but 
the evil that I would not that I do." 

W^e find ourselves under the influence of mental feelings. 
Our best and only true guide is experience. Holy men of 
old said, the way of the transgressor is hard. Disease, dis- 
grace, darkness and death he before him. Experience in- 
vites him to return to the path of virtue and peace. Expe- 
rience is the rule by which we try everything. Many new 
things appear upon which we look with favor, but when ex- 
perience lays them aside they are dead and beyond resurrec- 
tion. All schools of philosophy on doubtful points are afraid 
of experience. From those points they try to frighten you 
like they would a child who cannot swim, by saying don't go 
there its deep water. 

Reflection is a repetition of thought. If you pass a house, 
a grove of trees and an open field their image is imperfect in 
the memory. Pass them the second, the third and the fourth 



136 PEN PICTURES. 

time and their image is perfected. Every board on the house, 
every leaning tree, the shades and shadows of the open field, 
are treasured in the memory. This is reflection applied to 
the mental organ, the eye. When we are presented with a 
problem we pass it through the mind until all of its parts be-^ 
come familiar, and this is reflection upon any given problem 
by the mind. 

Reason is comparison. Take two sticks, place them 
some distance apart and you are unable to determine which 
is the longest, because the distance between them disturbs 
in some degree the sense of vision. Place them together and 
you see at once which is the longest. This decides the sense 
of vision, and we decide all of our difficulties upon the same 
principle. 

Our problems must all be brought together and meas- 
ured. You may call it comparison, experience or reason. 
To the frequent application of the terms reflection and 
reason we apply the term wisdom, which is the experience of 
the age, and of all the past ages of the world. 

The Greeks and Romans personified wisdom by the 
Goddess Minerva, according to their faith. The Goddess 
Minerva ruled over the mental world, distributing to or with- 
holding wisdom from mortal man. 

Solomon, the celebrated King of the Jews, personified 
wisdom in his book of proverbs in the 8th chapter. He rep- 
resents wisdom in council with the Creator. 

And Anstode, who lived three hundred years before the 
Christian era, asserted that human reason did not originate- 
with the body, and that it was bestowed upon it from the out- 
side. 

You may trace the mind from the first indication, sensa- 
tion and on to thought. Reflection, reason and wisdom, 
and whatever link you strike, . lo or 10,000, break the chain 
alike. 



PEN PICTURES. 137 

All of the different names that we have given to the 
manifestations of mind are produced by the same intellect, and 
that intellect is not produced by the digestion of food. It is 
an eternal principle pervading the universe. It is th^ domin- 
ion of mind over matter. 

It is not my province or intention to dispute any man's, 
religious faith. No man can work without faith. No man 
can live without faith. His family, his countrymen, the hu- 
man race, are entitled to his love and esteem, but his faith- 
is his own. 

I would not raise a vandal hand against the invigorating 
name of liberty. It is every man's, right to enjoy his own 
faith, because faith is the ferrjinan who sets us all across the 
dark river. The great interest of humanity — here— lies in con- 
duct—and the great teacher said, men do not gather in grapes 
of thorns, or figs of thistles. 

One more picture and the curtain falls. 

Talk about the Free Thinkers, the Christians and the 
Infidels ; through the long ages of the historic period, they 
have waged a war of words that you might haul by the cart- 
load and fill a common barn — a pile of rubbish that would 
discourage and dismay the boldest student in the world. A 
man had as well undertake to; circumnavigate the globe with 
a wheel-barrow as to read and understand all of the books. 
that have been written and published on mental philosophy. 
It would be sacrilege to throw another grain of sand on this^ 
mountain of opinions, were it not a worthy heroism to teach 
man the value of his own mental freedom. 

Ouf philosophy flows as freelv as a river of water; we 
enter no man's brain for the purpose of taking z. prisoner ; we 
have no mysterious judgments — passed by a court of doubtful 
authority — to execute. Every man's brain is an Empire, 
duly commissioned and appointed to fight its own battles and 
work out Its own destiny, whether he be a Baptist, Methodist 



138 



PEN PICTURES. 



or Presbyterian — whether his coat be taken from a Catholic 
or Protestant box, so it covers a true and faithful heart. 

Our words are taken from Nature ; our book is written 
by Nature's soft ha-nd, and needs no interpreter. We speak 
the same language to every man, whether he be at the north 
pole or under the equator ; whether his lot be cast upon a 
lone island in the sea, or among the crowded crowned heads 
of Europe; whether he be king, or subject, or a favored son 
of " the land of the free and home of the brave." 




LECTURE IV.— MAN AND ANIMALS. 

What little time we have, even in the longest life, for 
observation, and when we are confined to one spot on the 
earth, we only see the things that surround us and are pecu- 
liar to the place upon which we live. It is by the light of 
history that we see the actions of other men in other places 
and other ages of the world, and if we undertake to pass 
judgment upon the human race without the light of history, 
how limited our knowledge, how unjust our judgment. When 
we look back through the glass of history, though it may be 
dark in some places, and observe the actions of the distin- 
guished men — among all nations and in all ages of the world, 
from the remotest historic period of antiquity to the present 
time — how much better prepared are we to pass judgment 
upon the character of man. History stamps virtuous and 
noble actions with the seal of applause ; vicious and evil deeds 
with the indelible ink of infamy. 

Brave and noble deeds, performed by heroes of a by- 
gone age, stand as boldly forth as does a lighthouse on the 
shore of destiny ; dark and unrelenting evils, performed hj 
cowardly actors, is a warning to us and to all succeeding 
generations of men. 

While life and time shall pass away, 
The deeds of men are sure to stay ; 
Impressions made on the sands of tim 
In every age and in every clime, 
Are covered not by time nor space 
But lasting as the human race. 



140 PEN PICTURESo 

Seven hundred and seventy-six years before the Christian 
era, Greek historians recorded the name of the victor in the 
Olympic games, and this is the first rehable date of ancient 
time. The Chaldean, the Egyptian, the Babylonian, the 
Assyrian and the Persian empires had their rise and fall, and 
left their remains for the future antiquarian to search in vain 
for the date of their rise or time of their glory. 

The Jews crystalized on the western borders of Asia. 
Their laws forbade them to intermingle with other people, 
and they made no advance in civilization from the time 
Joshua led the Israelites over the river Jordan until Titus 
destroyed Jerusalem and Jewish nationality. The philosophy 
of the priests and rulers was carefully recorded and preserved 
in the archives of their temples. They paid little or no atten- 
tion to time or dates. 

A careful comparison of their records and traditions 
places the antiquity of man at about 7,320 years. Modern 
antiquarians think this time entirely too short — indeed, some 
have ventured to place the antiquity of man as far back as 
24,000 years. How long man lived a purely animal life we 
have no means of knowing. Scientific men speak of three 
ages, which they denominate the ''Stone," the ''Bronze'* 
and the '' Iron" ages. In the infant age of the human race 
they made no tools of anything but stone— all of their imple- 
ments were made of stone. At a more advanced period 
bronze appears, decorating their implements and ornaments. 

With the ''Iron Age" commences heroic civilization and 
the light of written history. This light first illuminated the 
hills of Greece. All Asia had been an immense battle-field. 
The Grecian States, on the edge of the greit waves of con- 
flict, emerged from the night of darkness. In this rude and 
barbarous age a knowledge of letters animated the men of 
Greece with the spirit of liberty. The Egyptian, Chinese and 
Hindoo people sought repose in non-intercourse, contented 



PEN PICTURES. 141 

to remain in their own native darkness, reached a certain 
point of regulated order and stopped. The Chaldean, As- 
syrian and Persian races kept in the stream of progress. 

The moving to and fro of great bodies of men, the wars 
of conquest and subjugation, gave rise to commerce. The 
intermingling of nations advanced civiHzation, while the deso- 
lating hand of war destroyed the identity of existing people. 
The intermingling of races gave rise to a nobler blood; and, 
with the letters of Greece and rise of Rome, we see the 
Caucasian race come upon the stage of action, unfolding the 
great work of genius and progress. How far they will ulti- 
mately go, lies way forward in the future womb of time. 

Diverse from the course of the sun, human genius rises 
up in the West and flows toward the East. Alexander the 
"Great rose up in the West and conquered the nations of the 
East; Constantine the Great rose up in the W^est and made 
himself master of the Roman Empire; Charlemagne restored 
the West long after the Eastern division of the Roman Empire 
perished. In all of the great battles of earth, the eagle of 
victory has hovered 'round western arms. In our late war, 
the flag of victory followed western men. The heart and 
soul of this country, is in the Mississippi Valley. 

I demonstrated in my lecture on time and motion, that 
the human race approached the middle of the historic period, 
before any instrument was invented for keeping time. The 
ancients paid no attention to chronology. The Chaldean 
was the first empire. Abram, the father of the Jewish na- 
tion, went out from Ur, of the Chaldees, to go into the land 
of Canaan. He pre-empted the land of Canaan from the 
river Euphrates to the borders of Egypt. Subsequently we 
have the history of the patriarchs, preserved by tradition. 
Cities were built and walled in; temples and pyramids flour- 
ished and decayed, having stood as monuments of the power 
of kmgs, and slavery of the people. 



142 PEN PICTURES. 

After perusing the pages of book history, We turn to tra^ 
dition — conflicting and contradicting accounts — turn us to 
cave history. We dig up the bones of our progenitors, 
marked only with long periods of time. The cradle of hu- 
manity is lost in the night of ages. The antiquarian is like 
a stranger in a strange land, who, after losing every trace of 
his way, wanders in the shades of night. 

I come now to speak of the Romans, and of the Cau- 
casian race. Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Napoleon 
Bonaparte, and George Washington, were all descendants of 
the Caucasian race. Galileo, Sir Isaac Newton, Professor 
Morse and Benjamin Franklin, descended from the Cauca- 
sian race. All, or nearly all, of the men of progress, are de- 
scendants of the Caucasian race. There are a few among 
the Mongolians, less among the Malays, and none among 
the negro races of men. Rome was built on the bank of the 
river Tiber in Italy; there is nothing peculiar about its local- 
ity. It was the character of the people that made Rome 
the mistress of the world. You may trace that character from 
the Tiber, in Italy, to the Thames in England, and to the 
Potomac and Mississippi in America. Talk about a war of 
races. The barbarism of physical war is passing away. A 
war of intellect is coming upon the stage. This war will 
blend all nations in one language and one religion. Who 
shall the victor be ? Let the Caucasian answer. 

Julius Caesar, although brave and generous, laid the 
foundation upon which was subsequently erected the great 
power of the Roman monarchs, the history of whom, fur- 
nish us with the outHnes of vice and virture. Some of them 
have a high claim to virtue; none were ever false to their 
power, or unmindful of it. No man, either of high or low 
estate, could escape the frown of the Emperor. There was 
no country upon the habitable earth, to which he could fly, 
as the land of the free, and home of the brave. Go where he 



PEN PICTURES 143 

would, the frown of the Emperor followed him as dark as 
the valley of Hinnom and certain as the grasp of death — there 
was no escape from it, but in the Spirit Land, where human- 
ity is laid even, and the servant is free from his master. The 
proud Roman, when defeated, never asked for or expected his 
life. To him defeat and death were the same thing. In the 
result of this philosophy, we see one hundred and fifty thousand 
Romans engaged in a single battle, not against a foreign ene- 
my; it was Roman against Roman, steel against steel, Cauca- 
sian against Caucasian. The power of the Emperor was every- 
thing. Hence we see Brutus and Cassius in the Senate house 
with drawn daggers, not to spill the blood of Caesar, but to 
waste the power of the Emperor. The history of the Roman 
Republic was fresh in the mind of Brutus, and he thought but 
one man (Julius Caesar) stood in the way, and this has given 
rise to the classic words: ''Not that I love Caesar less; but 
I love Rome more." When, afterward, Brutus was over- 
come by the united arms of Antony and Octavius, he conse- 
crated the declaration by throwing his body upon his sword, 
exclaiming: "O! virtue, thou art but a name!" History 
has embellished the name of Brutus as the noblest Roman of 
them all. With the fall of the Roman empire, we date the 
rise of modern nations. We have different countries, and 
different races of men — thousands of years have transpired 
in giving character to the different races. Our country 
stands pre-eminently in the front rank of all nations which 
are in the stream of progress. In most other countries men 
are born princes, they are born aristocrats and they are born 
workmen. In our country, a man is not born anything — 
he is born to fill the measure marked out by his capacity. 
We have done more, and we are doing more, than any other 
country, to develop the intellect of the individual man. 

All the lessons of history teach us that man is a progres- 
sive being, and that in its infancy the human race, like the 



144 PEN PICTURES. 

birth of the individual man, was born naked, with no in'^ti- 
tutions, destitute of all arts and sciences, and as some emi- 
nently learned men believe, speechless, from which condi- 
tion he has ever been struggling up from the dark valley of 
antiquity to a high and holy hill of light. In childhood we 
believe the strange stories of our nurse ; in manhood we dis- 
card the stories and retain our love for the nurse. We love 
the old men who nursed the infancy of humanity, but we are 
discarding their strange stories. The early traditions of all 
nations, surround the accounts of their origin with supernat- 
ural persons and events, which the judgment of more en- 
lightened times, condemn as fabulous and impossible. The 
primitive condition of the human race is represented by 
very opposite opinions. One claims a golden age of inno- 
cence and bliss, the other a wild and savage state of barbar- 
ism. There must have been a first man, and it matters but 
little to us, whether we adopt the dirt philosophy, that he 
was made of clay, or the evolution theory, that he devel- 
oped from the lower animals, When he became man, he 
was not an animal nor an angel. Standing on a middle 
ground between the animal and angelic state, no wonder he 
ate forbidden fruit. No wonder his appetite continues for so 
many generations. The greater wonder is, that he is emerging 
from the slavery of his appetite, and traveling on toward the 
temple of knowledge. Standing way back in the twilight of 
the infancy of the race, he may have resembled a speechless 
brute of the forest, making his desires known to those at 
hand, in a barbarous dialect, and eking out a life-time in the 
neighborhood of his native cave. Now he speaks to his fel- 
low-man across the ocean, traverses a continent in a few 
days, and circumnavigates the globe in a few months. All 
history teaches that man is progressive, and points out the 
difficulties that have been overcome— those that yet stand in 



PEN PICTURES. 145 

the way — and that these achievements are being accom- 
plished by universal education. 

We come now to speak more definitively of man and an- 
imals, as seen o.i the broad .field of nature with the naked 
eye. Let us take mm down to a level with the animals. Not 
that we wish to degrade humanity, but for the sake of the 
argument let us take man down to a level with the animals. 
They see by the same light, hear by t|ie same means, feel by 
the same process, feed upon the same food, drink the same 
water, breathe the same air, and are animated by the same 
mental elements. Where, then, is the great mental differ- 
ence between men and between animals and man? Is it 
not in their physical and mental organism? 

Take a transparent bottle, fill it with beautiful trinkets, 
and you see all of their variegated colors. Then take an 
opaque or blue bottle, fill it with the same trinkets, and you 
will hardly distinguish one trinket from another — yet all that 
you see in the blue bottle, you see by the same light that you 
see them in the transparent bottle. 1 hen, is not the difference 
in the organism of the two bottles containing the trinkets? 
And I affirm that the mental difference between men and 
between animals and man, is in the casket containing the 
mental trinkets — the size, nature and quality of the brain. 
The man who undertakes to overthrow this philosophy will 
have a blue-bottle head; for he will begin by tehing you 
about a spirit, or some dark, incomprehensible thing. The 
dog is more intelligent than the cat. Is there a dog spirit 
and a cat spirit? or is the difference in the mental organism 
of the two animals? A dog acts upon the basis of his 
mental organism, and so does a man. A dog barks and 
hunts, like his ancestors did 2,000 years ago, because he has 
no mental organ of progress. Animal instinct is the great 
hobby-horse of old philosophers. What is instinct? A rose 
will smell as sweet by any other name. They say instinct, 



146 PF.N PICTURES. 

and there they stop. AVhat they call instinct is nothing but 
a oriental organ transmitted from one generation to another. 
We find it in all animals, and also in man, wise by inherit- 
ance. The bee builds a honey cell to-day, like its ancestors 
did 2000 years ago. This knowledge in the bee is a mental 
organ, transmitted by inheritance. Go with me to a beaver's 
dam, and you will observe the beaver has not only selected a 
good locahty on the creek — he has also taken every advan- 
tage of the ground — he has executed his work like his ances- 
tors did ages ago. And the old philosophers call it instinct. 
They have drawn a line between what they have been pleased 
10 call instinct and reason. 

It is like the axle we put through the earth, upon which 
we say the earth revolves — it has no existence, in reality. A 
man who is born blind, is mentally inferior to one born with 
eyes — that is. he has one brain organ less. And we must 
draw the line between man and animals upon the basis of 
mental organism. But you must remember that neither man 
nor animal can learn or realize anything that does not come 
within the scope of some of his mental organs. Show a beau- 
tiful picture to a blind man, or whisper the soft voice of love 
in the ear of a deaf woman, and what do you accomplish ? 
Men learn to the extent of their mental organism, and so do 
animals, and both receive knowledge by inheritance. 

In all ages of the world there have been men, wise by 
inheritance. They manifest their wisdom by a fixed organ in 
the brain. Their ideas of the way things ought to be per- 
formed, their philosophy of time and space of men and things 
of humanity, and human destiny, with them is all settled — 
was known to their fathers and transmitted to them by inher-^ 
itance. These men never give anything to art, science, or 
philosophy. They are like the bee and the beaver — willing 
to work like their ancestors did ages ago. 

Man has a mental organ of progress, of which we will 



PEN PICTURES. 147 

speak in our next lecture more at length. It is a iavf- of na- 
ture, that like produces like, and by the force of this law ail 
of our mental organs receive an impulse in the blossom. 
Primitive man commenced by cutting things with a slhirp 
stone. As genius and discoveries advanced, tools were im- 
proved, and necessity demanded workmen in wood, stone 
and metal. Continual work, and consequently continued 
thought on the best way to work, strengthened the mental 
organ of mechanism ; and that organ in an active state — has 
been transmitted from one generation to another, until now 
we have children born mechanics. We may say the same of 
music — we have children born musicians, and we have chil- 
dren born honest, and born rogues, and where will we stop ? 
This we call the laws of hereditary descent — they defy and 
resist education for a long time. Take a child that is a born 
rogue— one in whom the organ or passion to steal has been 
strongly fixed by inheritance, and it meets with no strenuous 
opposition as the boy grows up — he will steal whether he be 
needy or not. Confine him in prison for theft, and when you 
let him out he will steal again. You might put him in a 
wake, to sit up with the dead, and he would steal the orna- 
ments from his grandmother's coffin. 

An honest man cannot steal — he don't know how— be- 
cause he has not received the passion by inheritance or 
instruction. 

All of our knowledge is directed by mental organ- 
ism; for knowledge is the same thing throughout the 
broad expanse of the mental world — an anijnal knows what 
it does know as well as a man. The brain of an aninial is 
less extensive than the brain of a man, and does not realize 
as many facts. Attack a man and his dog. The dog will 
realize the fact that you are an enemy, as quick as ihc man. 
though he may not know all of the facts in the case The 
humblest individual in this house knows that the door opens 



]^48 PEN PICTURES. 

on the east side of the building just as well as the wisest 
philosopher in this assembly knows that fact. His opportu- 
nities may have been limited, but so far as his understanding 
has realized facts, he knows the truth of those facts Just as 
well as the most accomplished and learned man in the world. 
Our difference in knowledge is ii* quantity, ^.Yid. not in 
quality. Some men have a more extensive mental organism 
than others, arising from inheritance, instruction and oppor- 
tunity, and may acquire more knowledge— that*- is more m 
quantity, but of no better quality. 

The mental organism of some races of men is more ex- 
tensive than other races. The teachers of the negro race in 
this country will bear testimony that that race cannot be 
educated, up to the Caucasian standard of education. Their 
limited mental organism cannot penetrate the wonderful 
avenues that have been traced by Caucasian brain. 

Seeing, hearing, tasting, smelling and feeUng, are the 
five senses of the old philosophers. They are common to 
animals and man. They are all external and visible organs 
of the brain. Sensation or feeling, in some of our mental 
organs, is the object and aim of all humanity. Too many 
detight in the sensation of appetite, they explore the kitchen 
from the pantry to the slop-bucket to find something that 
will stimulate the appetite. Others more intent after some- 
thing to stimulate other feelings, can live a week on a sea- 
biscuit and a woodpecker. 

The internal as well as the external organs of the brain, 
are seen in animals, as in man, but are more extensive in 
man. The passions always manifest themselves with the 
character of the mental organ through which they pass. 
Anger frowns and stamps, grief wrings its hands, joy dances 
and leaps. Self-esteem throws the body in an erect, proud 
attitude ; combativeness throws the bod)^ of a man or animal 
in the attitude of attack.. The dog opens his inouil^ ard 



PEN PICTURES. 140 

shows his teeth, man doubles up and shows his fist to his 
adversary. The sensation of fear or cowardice throws the 
body in a stooping, watchful position. The dog sneaks off 
with his tail down, and to use a slang phrase, man skedadles. 

All of our feelings assume the character of the brain or- 
gan, through which they pass, and manifest themselves ac- 
cording to the strength of that organ. Our mental organs 
become feeble when left out of use, and strong when culti- 
vated. Boys who grow up in the streets, without the watch- 
ful care of a faithful mother, learn the lessons of idleness, and 
receive impressions on the infant brain, eminently calculated 
to produce in age, a regular soup-house-raf. 

Boys who grow up at home and in the schools, get the 
foundation of a better education ; kind parents and a pleasant 
home, sow the seed of patriotism and love of country. When 
the precious jewels of the infant brain are unfolded by the 
delicate touch'of a faithful mother, the noble woman has not 
only served her child, she has served her country, God, and 
the human race. 

When you hear a man say he is not in favor of the com- 
mon schools, that he is a bachelor, and don't take the 
county paper, you may set him down in the dead-book; too 
penurious to educate the orphan ; too mean to have a son of 
his own ; too careless to rend the events transpiring 'round 
hiin; \\\\\ give nothing for the fate of his country, or life of 
his nation ; unwilling to contribute one drop of oil lo the 
light of the age in which he lives — he is a dead beat. 

The wheel of progress moves toe slow, yet it ro!ls steadily 
on. The work is assigned ta a few individuals, who are in 
the main public men,' giving precept and example. ' In all 
ages and countries they make mistakes. No stream was ever 
known to rise above its fountain. When the ruHng or lead- 
ing men of society, or of a. nation, indulge in vice, the public 
mmd is poisoned at the fountain and all the streams becon.^ 



150 PEN PICTURES, 

impure. The numan brain is stamped with the love of imi- 
tation. Our wise men look back for a precedent. We 
measure our actions by the laws of the society in which we 
live. Individual effort to rise above the laws of society is 
dimly discernable. No wonder virtuous humanity has strug- 
gled so long and so hard. 

Some scientific men have endeavored to identify man 
and animals, by appealing to the body. They have dissect- 
ed the brain, counted the teeth and measured the bones of 
all the monkeys, under the false impression that brain producer 
mind. The Darwinian theory of improvement by natural 
selection as applied to the animal kingdom, is founded upon 
laborious study and profound philosophy, but it applies to 
the body and not to the mind. We have improved our do- 
mestic animals to a wonderful extent, but that improvement 
applies to the body and not to the mind. If you want a wise 
hog you must go back to the old wood-rooter. Cultivating^ 
the body does not always cultivate the mind. If it did, the 
man who could make the grandest bodily show, would be 
the wisest man in the world. 

In the third century of the Christian era there lived a 
Roman Emperor — Maximin- — of Gothic origin, who was said 
to be eight feet high, could drink seven gallons of wine and 
eat forty pounds of meat in a day. He could grind up peb- 
bles in the palm of his hands and tear up a small tree by the 
roots. Yet his mind was not sufficiently developed to com- 
mand the Roman legions, for he was murdered in his tent by 
some of his own soldiers. The Greeks and Romans educated 
their youth in physical strength, that they might become good 
soldiers. Mental education was little thought of among the 
ancients, especially the education of the masses. We have 
fine institutions of learning, but we have too many book-men, 
and too few original men. 

Too many iiaveJ in the Deaten path of their predecessors 



PEN PICTURES 151 

and never stop to think of original things. You must think. 
The tide of thought flows as freely as the atmosphere, but 
you don't use it. You had as well try to realize physical 
strength without action, as to try to realize mental strength 
without thinking. But remember you had as well try to trace 
a bee course in the backwoods without eyes, or fly from the 
Black Hills to the Dead Sea without wings, as try to learn or 
realize anything, for which you have no mental capacity. 
Go on with the natural bent of the mind. Press forward in 
the direction that the light appears, and on, and on, you will 
go, for the poet said : 

•* Man's greatest knowledge is himself to know.*' 

All men soon become acquainted with their bodies But 
as I have already demonstrated, the body is not the man, 
the mind is the mat 

I once knew an old man by the name of Vincen who 
was in the habit of getting drunk, as we say, and as you all 
know, this operation is performed by driving the mind out of 
the brain and leaving the body to take care of itself, without 
the mind to direct it. The poor body is found wanting. 
Can't walk straight. Don't know up from down. It is all 
the time going down, and all the time going up ; but goes 
■down, more than it does up. We call it drunk. It is the 
body that is drunk, not the mind. The mind has left the 
body limber and we call it drunk. 

Old man Vincen lived in the country, and he went to 
town where he met with his brother, who gave him a new 
coat. After this event he met some drinking friends and 
got drunk. In this condition his body started home in the 
dusk of the evening. On the way, when the last lingering 
spark of mind had departed, the question presented itself 
to that body: Had Vincen started home, or was he yet in 
town? The eyes surveyed the body: the new coat looked 



152 PEN PICTURES, 

Strange , the lips muttered, this is not Vincen, Vincen is in 
town. Who can this be ? God ! this is Shaw. Shaw was a 
proud, dressy man. The legs of that body raised the feet 
high to walk like Shaw, and it tumbled into a mud hole, 
where it lay until the next morning, when old man Vincen 
came and dragged it out. 

Oh! how many drive the mind away from them by 
intoxication. Oh! how many, by mental laziness, fail to 
prepare the mental house, prepare the store-houses of the 
brain, and the mind or the man will come and dwell in it. 
And let me say to all young men, do not sit down and brood 
over the opinion that you are no great man, for if such be the 
case, you have made no preparation for a great mind to come 
and dwell in your bram. Go to work, clear away the rub- 
bish, forsake all of your bad habits. We do not see great 
men seek the company of rowdies, then drive the rowdies, 
the bad habits out of your brain, and a great mind will come 
and dwell there. 

When the mental element enters, brain organism, it pro- 
duces sensation or feeling. All live animals have feeling, buf 
of very different character. The horse has a sensation of 
hunger, but he has no sensation of honor or honesty; he 
will eat another horse's corn as quick as his own. 

Then I ask, what mysterious power produces all of the 
various sensations, passions and feelings, that we observe in 
the animal kingdom, where can you place it but with brain 
organism ? 

An animal, through his brain organs, realizes the sensa- 
tions of hunger, thirst, rest, association, love, hatred, ambi- 
tion and fear, in common with man. 

Man, through a superior brain organism, realizes the 
additional sensations of honor, honesty, happiness, holiness, 
integrity, industry and immortality. 

The old philosophy of instinct and reason that man. 



PEN PICTURES. 15^ 

learns, and that animals do not, is a mistake that must be 
apparent to all men of experience with animals, who think 
at all. An animal can be taught to the extent of its mental 
organism. In teaching an animal we always appeal to sen- 
sation or feeling. We must appe»al to a mental organ of 
which he is ia possession, sight, smell, hearing, love, fear, 
appetite or any other mental organ common to his species, 
in some of which he is superior to man. Your dog can tell 
you the course the rabbit runs, when you can not tell by the 
use of the same means; because nature has given him a more 
refined sensation in one of his mental organs — the nose. 
Man has circumnavigated the globe, measured the earth and 
fathomed the sea; has raised his arm to the clouds and 
brought down the lightning to his use; can speak to his fel- 
low man across the ocean and detail the momentous events 
of the day. And yet he is compelled to sit down in the 
glory of all his wisdom, and acknowledge that his dog knows 
some things that he does not know. 

The most accomplished statesman that ever erected a 
legal standard on the face of God's green earth, or presided 
over the highest and best appointed institution of learning 
ever organinized among mankind may learn some things 
from a poor, forlorn, ragged and wretched beggar. Teaching 
is unfolding the great casket of nature. No mortal man has 
ever seen the last picture. We clean the dust out of our 
eyes with a towel and water; teaching is cleaning the dust 
out of our mental organs with the water of experience; but 
you had as well try to unfold the brilliancy of the sun to a 
blind man, as try to teach a man or an animal anything that 
is outside of his mental organs. You had as well try to 
frighten the man in the moon from crossing the ocean with- 
out a canoe, as try to teach a man or an animal anything for 
which he has no mental capacity. You may soon teach a 
dog to sit by the fire, because his feelings soon realize the 



154 PEN PICTURES. 

advantage of heat, but you cannot teach him to mend up 
the fire, because his limited mental organism docs not permit 
him to see cause while it does not realize effect. Man soon 
learns to build up the fire, but if you ask him what fire is — 
he like the dog — he can't tell you. 

Phny, Mola and Plutarch speak of ancient tribes in 
Egypt, Greece and Persia, who were unacquainted with the 
use of fire. Chinese historians acknowledge the same of 
their progenitors, the inhabitants of the Marian islands dis- 
covered in 1551, who made no use of fire, and the friction 
match was not discovered until 1829, by John AValker. The 
old people used to keep the seed of fire, as they called it, 
covered up in the ashes, and when the seed was lost, hunt 
up a flint and strike like Pittsburg, not for more wages, but 
more fire. Now you can buy a box of matches with a cent, 
and set the city on fire, like the strikers at Pittsburg ; burn 
the iron horse; but if we ask you what fire is, you are like the 
dog, you can't tell. Fire is an old friend as well as an enemy. 
We have known it always, but we only know its name. We 
know that is a principle or element pervading the universe. 
More than this we do not know, because our limited mental 
organism does not permit us to penetrate the secret chambers 
of the universe of God. 

One more lecture and we part. Friends are parting 
throughout our beautiful land. Friends live forever, and 
love forever, but they do not part forever. They part like a 
city and the sun, to meet again in a little while. You and I 
part at death, and what is our life? One line in the great 
book of history; one grain in*the sands of time; one drop 
in the ocean of humanity, and adieu to the scene we call 
life. We part in trouble; we meet in peace j we part in a 
world of sin and sorrow ; we meet in a world of purity and 
peace; we part in tenements of clay; we meet in tenements 
immortalized. This closes our lecture on man and animals. Our 



PEN PICTURES, 155 

next ecture is on spirit and soul, in which we will speak of 
the mental organ we term the organ of progress. 

More intricate than the broad expanse of the universe, 
The hidden friend and wonderful counselor of all nations of men 
That has ever been as true to the barbarous as to civilized man ; 
That has stood over the dusky woman of ancient times, 

and hovers 'round the accomplished mother of our civiliza= 
tion, when she lays the darling of her bosom beneath the 
dark, green sod, and will ever stand over the last lingering 
?park of humanity, until the sun of hope darkens and dis- 
appears from the heaven of anticipations. 






rv.c)^ 



LECTURE v.— SPIRIT AND SOUL. 
Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Q2e%zr.— Shakspeare. 

In our previous lectures we endeavored to look at nature 
in a natural way. The i:»resent subject seems to demand that 
we should depart, at least in some degree, from the great 
cardinal principles laid down by the laws of nature, yet we 
do not propose to travel on the out-side track. True to our 
nature and to the laws that govern the universe, we will 
travel upon that road as long as there is a foot of 
ground beneath our feet, and when the last grain of sand has 
sunk from our pathway, make one long leap for the eternal 
shore. 

In the language of St. Paul — " If we have hope only in 
this life, we are of all men most miserable." 

The errors of our fathers are left behind in the back- 
woods. We have thrown the old stage coach away, and 
pass from city to city on a palace car ; but we have not 
thrown away the principle. We have improved the roads, 
magnified the motive power, and enlarged the coach, but we 
still travel upon wheels. 

Many great minds of the age have thrown away the phi- 
losophy of primitive Judaism, but there is a principle ki 
human nature that they cannot throw away without throwin-g 
themselves away, for it was planted by that great eternal 
hand who laid the foundations of the universe, and appointed 
a place for the earth. 



PEN PICTURES. lOV 

In the early dawn of the Historic period Jacob journeyec? 
toward Haran, and slept under a tree, with the grass for a 
bed and a stone for a pilloWo He dreamed that he saw a 
ladder reaching from Earth to Heaven, This is the second 
dream.recorded in Jewish history. No one will contend that 
Jacob saw a material ladder. Thatiladder was seen by the 
mind's eye, or by the great^ power ox the imagination; and, 
although it was not a true ladder, it did represent a true 
principle. 

The imagination is a principle in mental organism com- 
mon to all men. It is no true philosophy to claim it for any 
profession or class or men to the exclusion of all others. It 
is the foundation upon which all of the castles of supersti- 
tion known to the human race have been erected. No man 
builds a house without a foundation, and any philosophy not 
founded upon some of the cardinal principles of nature, is 
nothing but a castle in the air. 

If any man will show me how the human understanding 
can be approached, out-side of the natural senses common 
to all men, by any other avenue than that of imagination, I 
will never open my mouth again on the subject of mental 
philosophy. AVhen a man has long dissipated he sometimes 
sees snakes in his boots. Now we all know that the snakes 
are false, but the principle is not false. The sight of the 
snakes is a picture, representing the road of ruin and dissipa- 
tion upon which the mind is traveling. The power of the 
mind called imagination underlies all human progress. It 
represents genius and forecast as well as spirit and soul. A 
steam engine would have run as well two thousand years ago 
as It does to-day, and the magnetic telegraph would have 
conveyed language across the ocean on the day that Colum- 
bus discovered America, just as well snd upon the same 
principles that it does to-day. But those p inciples in nature 
slumbered beneath a dark cloud of ignorance for ages. 



158 PEN PICTURES. 

The question naturally presents itself to us: by what 
means do we penetrate the dark recesses of the universe and 
unfold the secret nerves of nature so useful to man ? Let the 
man of genius answer, and he will tell you before he made 
any new thing, he saw its picture with the mind's eye, or by 
the great power of imagination. And thus through the long 
ages of the historic period that great power of the mind, the 
iningination, has been unfolding the beauties of nature, and 
no iiian can say that we have approached the end of the 
chapter, or even the middle of the casket. 

Could the wisest philosopher of the age sleep a thousand 
years and reappear upon the stage of action, he would be lost 
in wonder, and look upon the age in which we live as an age 
of semi-barbarism. 

On the sixth day of October, 1829, George Stephenson, 
a coal miner of Northumberland, England, having construct- 
ed the Rocket^ the first locomotive engine ever seen in the 
world, Tun it from Manchester to Liverpool at the rate of 
thirty miles an hour. All practical mechanics in the country, 
while Stephenson was at work, condemned the experiment 
and pronounced it a failure. George Stephenson saw the 
picture of the Rocket by the power of his imagination before 
he made the engine, for no man can work in the dark. At 
this period the great Henry Clay was wasting his eloqence in 
Congress, in favor of the Cumberland turnpike road. Mr. 
Clay was a great orator, but he was no mechanic. Hence 
we see the dusty coal miner coming forward with an argu- 
ment more potent than all the oratory in the world. 

I do not contend that every ♦ picture presented to the 
imagination can be worked out. There must necessarily be 
failures among all men and among all classes. 

All Eible readers are familar with the book of Daniel. 
Daniel saw four beasts rise up out of the sea, and the fourth 
beast was diverse from the rest He had great iron teeth and 



PEN PICTURES. 



I51T 



ten horn?, and soon there came up among them another Httle 
horn that had eyes. No one will contend that Daniel saw any 
beast m reality; he saw a picture by the great power of 
imagination, which he said was a picture of a revolution in 
governments. Daniel was a prisoner in Babylon, and his 
mind glowed with unabating tenacity for a return to his 
native land. Learned clergymen have been trying to work 
out Daniel's pictures for more than two thousand years. The 
angel Gabriel, so often mentioned by subsequent writers,, 
whom they have commissioned to sound the last horn, is one 
of Daniefs pictures. Daniel is the first writer who mentions 
the name of the angel Gabriel, which you may see by con- 
sulting the book of Daniel, viii. 15. It is said that Daniel's 
book was shown to Alexander the Great, and^Jie supposed 
that he saw his own image in one of Daniel's pictures, and 
for this cause treated the Jews with great lenity. 

The old Jews taught their descendants that some animals 
were unclean, and their" laws forbade the use of them. All 
historians know with what great "respect the Jews regarded 
their laws. We read in the Christian Scriptures that Peter, 
when he dwelt at Joppa, with Simon, a tanner, by the sea 
side, saw a great sheet, held at four corners, and let down 
from heaven ; this sheet was full of all manner of beasts, and. 
he heard a voice saying, ''Arise, Peter, kill and eat." No one 
believes that Peter saw a real sheet full of real animals. 
Peter saw a picture, by the great power of imagination, from 
which he concluded that the God of the Jews was also the 
God of the Romans, for he soon after baptized Cornelius, 
who was a Roman. We know that the question prevailed at 
that time among some of the early Christians, whether or not 
their faith extended outside of the Jewish nation. 

St. John said: "I stood upon the sand of the sea and 
saw a beast rise up out of the sea having seven heads and ten. 
horns.'* No one believes that any such beast ever had art 



160 PEN PICTURES. 

existence in the universe. St. John saw a picture by the 
great power of his imagination. Many have wondered at the 
similarity between the visions of Daniel and St. John. Daniel 
lived 700 years before St. John, and Alexander the Great, 
who lived 300 years before St. John, supposed that he sa-w 
himself in one of Daniel's pictures. Some of the clergymen 
of our day are engaged in working out those pictures. They 
are like the boy who went out to learn French when he did 
not understand his mother tongue. 

Mind operates upon or through brain organism, and all 
of these old men, who have long since passed away and gone 
to their reward, were mentally organized precisely like men 
are to-day. When thought has long impressed any of the 
mental organs the imagination extends in the direction of 
that organ. 

Mahomet went into a cave and secluded himself, while 
his imagination traversed the regions of heaven, astraddle 'of 
a white mule. A mechanic may train his thoughts upon the 
subject of invention until they travel, seemingly, out side of 
h's brain, and he beholds wonderful associations of machin- 
ery — he is in the broad field of imagination where every 
shape and form appears. This g:-eat power of the human 
brain is common to all men. One class of men reveal tlie 
beauties of heaven, another class reveal the beautiep of earth. 
AVe call them the men cf progress. 

A word is the sign or garment of an idea. Living 
lano-ua^^es are progressive. No language has ever lived a 
thousand years. Could the subjects of Alfred the Great re- 
appear in England they would not understand the English 
language as it is spoken to-day. Much difficulty sometimes 
arises from the want of a proper understanding of the words 
we speak. I hold my hand here, and move it there. My 
hand is a thing and will perish, the change of its position is a 
principle r.nd will not parish; thus you will understand what 



PEN PICTURES. 161 

I mean by the words things of nature and principles of nature. 

I come now to speak of the word spirit^ and will en- 
deavor and do so in a spirit of meekness. 

The word spirit occurs in the Scriptures about 324 times, 
and is generally used to designate a principle, and not a 
thing. The word angel is often used in the Scriptures, and 
designates a body or thing. The word soul occurs in the 
Scriptures about 220 times. It is often used to designate a 
number or individual — eight souls, or eight persons, crossed 
over the flood in Noah's ark. We conclude, therefore, that 
the word spirit, as we should understand it, designates a 
principle or a picture, and not a body or thing. When a 
whole nation are of one opinion with regard to anything, we 
call that principle the spirit of the age, or of the nation. We 
say, the common schools are upheld by the spirit of the age. 

I know that a great many jDersons individualize spirits, 
and think they have seen them. It is said Martin Luther 
once threw his ink-stand at the devil, and the ink-stand went- 
through the devil, and hit the wall of his room. He threw 
his ink-stand at a picture; that picture was false, but it did 
represent a principle. The old man was worried with his 
enemies and saw their picture, to which his imagination gave 
the shape of the devil. 

There are many persons who believe in . what they call ^ 
''the operation of the Spirit." This philosophy in one sense 
is true. When a number of individuals^^all meet together, 
having concentrated their thoughts -upon devotion by a laW' 
of nature, impressions long continued ! UDon^ a mental organ ' 
will carry the mind in tli^t direction, and 'sometime^' it will ^ 
pass out into the broad field of imagination. The opera^tion' 
of the Spirit must be upon or through menta] organism. Ifi 
the impressions are made upon the good organs of Jthe brain 
the spirit will be good. And if the impressions are made 



162 PEN PICTURES. 

upon the bad organs of the brain the manifestations will be 
that of a bad spirit. 

The Pharisees, . a religious sect among the Jews, who 
flourished immediately before the Christian era, taught the 
philosophy of the existence of a spirit, or soul, in man, dis- 
connected and separate from the lody or mind, and of course 
must be deaf and dumb, incognito and foolish, this is the 
darkest picture of all of the dark ages. The word spirit should 
always be appUed to the mind, and never to the body. 
Wherever we find mind we find spirit. We never say the 
spirit of a tree, but we do say, a dull and high-spirited horse, 
and a dull and high-spirited man. ^ When*one is dead we say 
his spirit is gone, or has left the body.^ It is a clumsy philoso- 
phy to apply a material body to the'existence of spirit. What 
can the Christian say who beUeves in the resurrection of the 
body ? Will he not, when the spirit body and the human 
body meet, cry out: "O, ^retched spirit that I am, who 
shall deliver me from these material bodies ?" When the mind 
is gone the spirit goes with it, and when the mind returns the 
spirit returns with it. A- spirit separated from the mind is the 
ghost of superstition ; was born in a dark corner of the field 
of fear, with reversed eyes — can see in the night, but sleeps 
in the day ; fed on credulity, lived through the dark ages, and 
may yet be seen in dark places through the dark glasses of 
modern spiritualism. When the last dark corner of the hu- 
man brain becomes illuminated it will bid adieu to the earth 
forever. 

The meek and lowly Jesus, the great moral Teacher 
whose standard of morality is truly the best the world ever 
saw, He who spake as never man spake, used the word spirit 
only eleven times. Those who wrote his history used it a great 
many more times. Jesus used it eleven times, that is record- 
ed in the Scriptures. He used it always in the same, or near- 
ly the same sense. The first time he used it was in the ser- 



PEN PICTURES. 163 

mon on the mount. He said, ''Blessed are the poor in 
spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." The last time 
he used it was on the cross, when the last mortal wound had 
been inflicted. He said, *' Father, into thy hands I commend 
my spirit J'^ 

No. I am mistaken. He used it once after this. You 
wijl find it in the last chapter of Luke, commencing at the 
36th verse. 

His scholars, the apostles, were all together in a certain 
place, soon after the crucifixion, holding a council on the 
perils of the times. The Master had been executed, no one 
could tell the fate of his followers; they were all afraid of the 
multitude and of public authority. The spirit of persecution 
was abroad in the land. The germ of Christianity was in 
that little council, and of this meeting the text reads : '^ And 
as they spake Jesus himself stood in the midst of them and 
saith 'unto them, ^ Peace be unto you ^' but they were terri- 
fied and affrighted, and supposed they had seen a spirit, and 
he said unto them, 'Why are ye troubled and why do 
thoughts arise in your hearts ? Behold my hands and my 
feet, that it is I myself, handle me and see, for a spirit hath 
not flesh and bones, as you see me have,' and for further 
proof he did eat before them." 

The idea of a material spirit originated with the Phari- 
sees. The early Christian writers founded their philosophy 
on the resurrection of the human body, and this is not in con- 
flict with the true philosophy of spirit. There is nothing in 
the wide world, so dear to a Christian, as a Christian's hope. 
The man who would wantonly disfigure a Christian's hope 
would steal the family casket of his grandmother, and dis- 
figure the fair faces of those who gave him being. The sum 
of that hope is in the resurrection of the human body ; the in- 
fant form, the darling body, that has been laid beneath the 



164 PEN PICTURES. 

green carpet to sleep, shall be restored again, to the bosom 
of its mother, in the resurrection of the dead. 

St. Paul saidj when speaking of the Christian's hope, in 
the eighth chapter of Romans : "*We groan within ourselves, 
waiting for the adoption, to wit : the resurrection of our 
body.' Josephus, the learned historian of the Jews, in ex- 
pounding the laws of MoseSy uses this language : * * Gcd hath 
made this grant, to those who observe these laws, even though 
they be obliged to die for them, that they shall come into be- 
ing again, and at a certain revolution of'things receive a bet- 
ter life, than they had enjoyed before. 

Infidelity, the love of the marvelous, and the hope of 
gain, are the nest eggs of modern disembodied spirits. The 
broad and open field of imagination is where the nest was 
found. Andrew Jackson Davis sat on the eggs. This great 
apostle of clairvoyance, Som-nam-bu-lisra, som-nil-o-quence, 
and all other sleeping beauties of the brain, says on the 
twenty-first page of his work, entitled. The Principles of Na- 
ture-, *' Seven times I have been requested to explain the na 
ture and composition of spirit." Then after making some re- 
marks on the different characters of men, he continues ; ' ' Fol- 
low me through thisiinvestigation, and then decide according 
to the evidence you receive, for, or against the conclusions 
arrived at." This modest request of Mr. Davis^vas to fol- 
low him through 782 pages. I followed him, and can best give 
you my experience by relating an anecdote. 

<* During the early settlement of Kentucky, in the infant 
age of the dark and bloody ground, when our great-grandfa- 
thers and great-grandmothers were rocked in a sugar trough 
and the children played around the log-cabin, which was adorn- 
ed with turkey-wings and buck horns, an early settler cleared 
off five acres of ground, around which he made a new rail 
fence, so close that a rabbit could not crawl through it. He 
planted it in corn, and in the early fall while walking 'round 



PEN PICTURES. 165 

his field, discovered that hogs had been destroying the crop. 
He examined every panel of the fence, to find where thebruta 
had entered the field. There was a ravine or natural ditch 
through the field, and when building the fence across this 
ravine, a hollow linn log was thrown in, to partly fill up the 
ditch, and the fence was placed upon it. Our farmer had a 
neighbor, who owned a spotted shoat, and if there is a wise 
hog in the world, you will always find him in the shape of a 
spotted shoat. This fellow had crawled through the linn log 
and torn down four times as much corn as twenty hogs could 
eat, and contrary to hog nature, had crawled out through the 
same hole that he crawled in. When our farmer discovered the 
trick, he pulled the fence down off the log and endeavored to 
remove it, it was a crooked log — like my elbow — and the man 
succeeded in getting both ends of the log on the outside of the 
field and replaced the fence upon it. He then left the field, 
directing his attention to the spotted shoat. When the ani- 
mal supposed the coast was clear, he cautiously approached 
the right end of the log and crawled through, coming out on 
the same side of the fence, when he raised his bristles and 
trotted off. He.jiever went back to that field. 

With the diligence of a hopeful student I waded through 
782 pages of Mr. Davis' work, and like the spotted shoat, 
came out on the same side of the fence. 

J spoke in my lecture on Time and Motion, of a great 
castle, in which allusion was made to the future state of man. 
This picture has existed among all nations of men. 

'* The soul uneasy and confined from home — 
Rests, and expatiates in a life to come." 

Mr. Davis proclaimed, that this castle was accessible, and 
beckoned his hearers to follow him. I followed him seven- 
hundred and eighty-two miles through the brush, it is true 
there was an occasional wild flower along the path-way. The 



166 PEN PICTURES. 

journey was tedious and wearisome, at last the wall of the 
castle appeared in the distance, I struggled up to the door, 
Mr. Davis opened it, and I passed through, only to find my- 
self in the woods on the other side. And Davis at last is 
compelled to come to the cold naked truth, and acknowledge 
that the interior of the castle is invisible until you go to sleep. 
He ought to be called, the sleeping beauty of the nineteenth 
century. 

The definition of the word medium, is to stand in or 
about the middle. If an orator offering to address you, stand- 
ing at so great a distance you could not hear him, and I 
stood in the middle — between you — repeating what he said, I 
would be a medium. Thus the spiritual medium, standing 
on the brink of the dark river, scanning the distant shores, 
sees, or thinks he sees, the golden edge of the new-born day, 
and with a cheek that knows no shame, reveals to credulous 
ears the mysteries of the spirit land. There have been me- 
diums in all ages of the world. The late revival of spiritual 
mediums in this country, is eminently calculated to start civil- 
ization on the back track. 

What is a medium ? Let us dissect him. He is nothing 
but a bundle of poor humanity, feeds on the same food, 
breathes the same air and is animated by the same elements 
that animate all men. Has he not arms, and legs, a face, 
and a brain? In what is he different from other men? In 
nothing, but wearing a cheek that knows no shame. 

Let us teach man the power of his own mental faculties, 
let him hear the voice of freedom it will elevate him above 
the power of prmcipalities — and devils. The beauties of na- 
ture, the flowers of reason, the roses of happiness lie in reck- 
less profusion along his path-way, he must gather them with 
his own hands. ** Let me pluck them for you," is the voice 
of slavery. When you meet sin and sorrow make no appeal 
to community, community is as destitute of mercv, as the 



PEN PICTURES. 167 

waves of the sea to a sinking ship. If you would ride boldly- 
over the waves of trouble, you must paddle your own canoe. 
Every man thinks, or should think for himself. The tide of 
thought flows as freely as a river of water, it is the water of 
life, springing up to every man's brain. Oh ! how bitter it is 
sometimes made from another's cup. 

The life of the body is a forced state, a state of worry, 
of care and oft of sorrow and of weeping. 

The life of the spirit comes a volunteer. We have al- 
ready demonstrated life to be a development that belongs to 
the vegetable as well as the animal kingdom. The Hfe of 
the spirit is a mental power eternal in itself pervading the 
universe. 

The principles of nature are eternal. The power of the 
steam engine is a principle — the steam is a thing, the power 
a principle. 

Honor arises from action, yet honor is a principle. One 
may have the external appearance of a gentleman, but if we 
find that he lacks the principle of honor we discard him. 
The things of nature perish or change form, the principles of 
failure are eternal. 

The rocks we dig out of the mountain bear indisputable 
evidence that they once existed in another form. 

The animals exist in the vegetable kingdom, and are de- 
veloped into bodies of flesh and blood, and perish or change 
form. ** Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return," 
alludes alone to the body. The spirit never was and never 
can be dust. 

Smoke rises up because it is lighter than the air; it acted 
the same way when the first fire was kindled upon the earth. 

I speak to you to-day. My body will perish and return 
to dust after it has moldered beneath the sod for 2,000 
ages. The same ideas may be advanced by another man, 
without any knowledge of me or of my record. The bodies 



168 PEN PICTURES. 

of men and their language perish; but ideas do not perish, 
because mind is an eternal principle pervading the universe. 
Spirit is the flower of the mind. Who would have a foolish 
spirit? We come now to speak of the presence of the spirit 
in the mind for no philosopher can find spirit in anything else. 
You see with both eyes alike because you use both alike. Put 
a bandage over one for a week and you will not be able to see 
with it at all for a time. Wha-t is true of the eye is also true 
of the other mental organs. Put a bandage over your evil 
organs and the devil will not enter. Close the door against 
him and he will go away. 

But, says one, I would do good but evil is present with 
me. It is hard to rid the mind of that old serpent — the 
Tempter. 

This reminds me of the Arkansas doubter. There lived 
a man in the State of Arkansas whom all his neighbors called 
the doubter. He doubted everything, doubted the existence 
of the man in the moon. Some said that he doubted public 
opinion. 

A traveler met the doubter in the road, and addressing 
him said : 

*' Sir, can you tell me where John Smith lives ?" 

The doubter, looked serious, replied " Do you see this 
bayou?" * ^ 

''Yes." 

" Well, this bayou runs west about three miles and then 
turns and runs south; right at the turn of the bayou there 
is a bridge ; cross that bridge and you strike a high plain 
sloping gradually to the west; the road runs across that plain 
in a" west direction; there are houses on each side cf the road; 
John Smith may live ino ne of these houses, but I doubt it." 

" I was not asking for your doubts, I want information." 

"Well cross this plain in a west direction and you come 
to a large canebrake; pass through this cp.nebrake and you 



PEN PICTURES. 16^ 

Strike a group of low flat hills, thickly settled ; John Smith 
may- live there, but I doubt it. They say that John Smith 
lives in all neighborhoods; strike any settlement, and by dili- 
gent*inquiry you can find John Smith, but I doubt it " 

*'Go to the devil with your doubts," said the man, and 
started on. 

**Hold on, stranger, I can tell you. where John Smith 
does live. He lives in his own house, and if you can find 
that house, you will find where John Smith lives." 

I am like the Arkansas doubter. You may go to church 
in search of a good spirit and you may find it there, but I 
doubt it. You may unfold the pages of ancient history in 
search of a good spirit, and you may find it there, but I 
doubt it. Hold, reader, I can tell you where you can find 
it — in its own house. Clear the rubbish out of your own 
brain ; quit all of your bad conduct ; prepare the residence 
for a good spirit, and it will come and dwell with you. 

But, says one, morality is dead without religion. With 
profound regard for the religious schools of the day, I criti- 
cise this declaration. Morality comes strictly within the pale 
of mental philosophy, because it is the result of mental or- 
ganism. The ancient definition of the word religion was to 
bind together. Our country and all other countries are full of 
churches and clergymen. They all teach religion. They all 
bind their own people together and leave humanity as wide 
apart as the poles. Morality is as broad as the earth, and 
beautiful as the unfolded heavens. The majestic idea of the 
word can march through the church and the state house ; can 
enter the dark prison and comfort the lowly and down-trod- 
den ; can travel without a passport among all nations, and 
through all countries ; can be spoken in every language and 
treasured in every heart. I would like to see all men every- 
where religious; but religion without morality is like a bird 
sitting on marbles — marbles never hatch. Associations of 



170 PEN PICTURES 

no st> who have bound jheinselves together and claim exclu- 
sive jarisdictioD uver the great spirit shoald not cTjaiy mo- 
rality It comes like the .mid teacher who appeared in Pat.es- 
tine (O strengthen the weak and bind up the broken-hearted. 
When 1 hear a man say thai morality is dead without re- 
ligion I think of that mild passage in the history of Jesus 
when his apostles came to him and said, " Mas^^er, we saw 
one casting^ out devils in thy name who did not follow us and 
we forbade him." 

I think of the old Jews who supposed themselves in pos- 
session of all the genuine religion that was in the world, when 
justice would nave released Jesus. They cried aloud to Pon- 
tius Pilate, ' ' crucify him ! crucify him ! let his blood be upon 
us and upon our children." Individuality crucified morality. 

Individuahty is the rock upon which all theologians split. 
It has scattered the Christian church into more than 6co de- 
nominations, and throughout the globe the future state has 
been fitted to the human passions. Who can individualize 
the mind? a bundle of passions, desires, hopes and fears. 
Who can individualize spirit ? We hope to meet our friends 
in the spirit land, but we do not hope to meet all of their 
individual passions. When we see outside of individuahty 
we will be no longer individuals. 

While man lives upon the earth he has a local habitation 
and a name. When he crosses the dark river he is borne 
away on the wide wings of hope through the stars and space. 
Deofavente ad infiniium. 

Individuality is human and peculiar to humanity, in 
proof of which I appeal to the history of the old Jewish 
prophets. All will agree that they were animated by the 
same spirit, yet we find as much difference between them as 
we find in any other class of men. Some of them dwelt 
upon the sublime and beautiful others spoke continually of 
weeping and sorrow. 



PEN PICTURES. 171 

And the clergymen of our day speak according to their 
mental organism. Some of them are a hard-hearted race of 
men, for they speak continually of future torments. Others, 
more congenial, speak of the beauties of the universe and 
incomprehensible works of God. Some lead their congrega- 
tions with a golden cord of love, others drive them with 
whips of scorpions. They all see by the same light and are 
animated by the same spirit. Where, then, is the great 
spiritual difference ? Is it not in their mental organism ? We 
see the same difference in their congregations. They are all 
taught by the same clergyman, attend the same church and 
claim the same reward. 

Try them on a case of charity; some of them would 
not give the sunny side of a stump to a frozen beggar, others 
give even to the undeserving. 

All of them do act according to their mental organism. 
Talk about the spirit ! The character of the spirit is always 
determined by the material with which it comes in contact. 
A man is a good or a bad man upon the basis of his mental 
organism. 

Behold the ancient pyramids of distant days ; contem- 
plate the magnificent temples of succeeding ages, and all the 
buildings erected for devotion. They stand as silent as the 
dead material of which they are composed. The human 
brain is the great spiritual temple of humanity. It is holy 
ground, consecrated by the unseen hand, upon which every 
mother in the world can rear the spiritual edifice of her 
children, though it be upon a puncheon floor inclosed with 
the rude logs of her native land. 

Daniel said to Belshazzar, when he read the hand-writing 
on the wall : ''Thou art weighed in the balances, and found 
wanting; thy kingdom is divided, and given to the Medes 
and Persians." No one believes that the king's body had 
been weighed in a pair of scales and found wanting in avoir- 



172 P^N PICTURES. 

dupois weight. The most refined results of the human mind 
have received a name, and that name is honor. The king's 
honor had been weighed and found wanting. Belshazzar 
was not a Jew, nor did he observe the Jewish ritual. 

Now, I appeal to this assembly ; you all have friends and 
associates, some of them you would trust with your money — 
you would trust them with your lives — others you would not 
trust with a pair of skates, because you have weighed their 
honor in your balances and found it wanting. The language 
of men, in their associations, rites, ceremonies and professions, 
in all ages or countries, perish or change form. But if they 
possess the principle of honor, it is imperishable. You may 
steal my money, burn my house and tarnish my goods: but, 
Oh God, save me from the dark assassin who would unjustly 
tarnish my honor ! 

Go wi'th rae to an ancient castle Its glory lies moldering 
in the dust — upon its features the hand of fate has dealt 
relentless ruin. The stream of time has left it away back in 
the dusky age. Slightly beneath the crumbling rubbish we 
find a coat; take it up, examine it, it may have been worn 
by the founder of the Chaldean empire or him who laid the 
foundation stone of a pyramid in Egypt. Stamped with the 
shape of humanity, we know it once covered a man \ nothing 
more does it reveal— poor, poor, dumb garment. 

Look ! here is the man himself — or rather the body — 
wonderfully preserved from the fate of decay. The lips are 
beautiful as ever. — Speak ! tell thy ancient rights and fervent 
prayers — they are as silent as the senseless rubbish clustered 
'round their moldering form ; whatever sounds they may have 
once uttered, whatever words they may have once spoken, 
like the coat the body was nothing but the garment that 
covered the true seed of honor. 

One more picture and the curtain falls. 

The pictures of the men of progress^ put in a frame 



PEN PICTURES 173 

together, are being hung up in our parlors. *'But," says 
one, '* that is Infidelity — better preserve the pictures of the 
holy men of old." Th^t is the individuality of poor human 
nature, that said morality is dead without religion — it is the 
same man who said there is a conflict between science and 
revelation. 

There is no conflict between true science and true revela- 
tion. Any problem that does not prove itself is no science. 
Twice two are four — figures are a science because they prove 
themselves. Astronomy demonstrates the course of the 
planets, and their contact in eclipse one with another before 
it takes place ; and geology, and all other sciences worthy 
of the name, prove themselves. And what is revelation ? 
There is no power in the universe that can reveal ignorance. 
To reveal is to uncover, to make known, to give the light of 
knowledge; and anything that is not made known is not 
revealed. 

Standing under the mantle of charity, we witness, a great 
conflict of human faith — and no wonder, faith is not a science 
or revelation. Faith is a feature of education, and applies 
only to conditions — for all nations agree to the great problem 
of a future life. The spirit of liberty guarantees to every 
man his own faith. It is a pure philanthrophy and a noble 
philosophy that consecrates every man's faith upon the altar 
of Charity, a beautiful and blindfolded goddess, who is bear- 
ing millions of our race, of all nations and countries, on the 
wide wings of hope, to eternity in a local spot ; a heaven 
adorned with precious stones and paved with gold ; a baby- 
house of the soul of ignorance and picture of the dark ages. 

I endeavored, in my lecture on Time and Motion, to 
unfold the infinity of the universe, space without limit, worlds 
without end. Time and motion belong to the planets, the 
planets belong to space. God and eternity are everywhere. 
The spirit of intellect pervades the universe, and animates 



174 PEN PICTURES. 

the soul of man here, hereafter and forever. It does not en- 
ter the tomb — the grave, and all the powers of darkness, do 
not bind it. The armies of death perish at its feet. It sur- 
vives the revolution of planets and the wreck of worlds ; per- 
vades the incomprehensible circle of space intwined in the 
arms of destiny. 




GENIUS AND POETRY. 



GENIUS. 

[In ancient fable an old man of venerable aspect and silver beard, 
unlike other heathen gods, he ruled no particular passion or element,, 
but loaned a helping hand to all, the Poet, Author, Architect, Teach- 
er, Navigator, Statesman, Orator, Theologian, General in the field 
and all others, even in the simplest avocations of life may consult 
him to advantage.] 

He lives not in a sealed house, 
He dwells in the open air, 
He is not found in robes of wealth, 
Neither bound up in classic schools. 

He lives in the wind, and rides on the breeze 
Dwells in the forest and tenants the trees. 

O ! tell me where and when 
True Genius comes to men ? 

In easy seat or cushion chair, 

He never comes to hear your prayer. 

In ease of body or of mind. 

No mortal can true Genius find. 

Faithful to all — and ever true — 

Work, work 1 and he will work with you; 

Work at what you can truly do. 

And he will come and work with you. 

His art is work, his heart is brave, 

He loves the free, and hates the slave, 

He lives with all who soar above^ 

Pure as light, and gentle as love. 



176 PEN PICTURES. 

MY NATIVE LAND. 

ADDRESSED TO YOUNG AMERICA. 

In ages past — almost obscure, 
We trace the germs of liberty, 
For ancient Greece in days of yore. 
Emerging from obscurity, 
Gave birth to men who lived to love, 
And all their love was liberty. 
Crushed to earth by tyrant heel, 

Long ages slept in lethargy, 

Aroused to meet the foeman's steel, 

And in the name of liberty. 

Fought fresh battles on the field 

Of young and brave America. 

Our fathers fought and bravely died. 

When death would pay Off tyranny ; 

They met the foemen side by side. 

And fought to win our liberty. 

The grateful heart adores the name 

They won for their posterity ; 

On land, on sea 'tis all the same, 

The watchword is *' Our Liberty." 

For teeming lands and homes made dear, 

By all the ties of purity. 

They held the claim without a fear, 

And still- they fought for liberty. . 

With their brave blood, " as pure as light, 

And free from the germs of tyranny. 

The last brave call heard in the fight. 

Was, leave to us " Our Liberty." 

A playful boy accosted me, 

AVith words of wisdorh — I may say, 



PEN PICTURES. 177 

T'or lads that climb an apple tree, 

His name was Young America. 

With golden locks and ruddy cheeks, 

He spoke in plaintive tones, so mild, 

The loving heart must ever seek, 

The memory of the growing child. 

In every State, so broad and fair. 

The little boys, triumphant stand, > 

And I must tell you, that they are 

The glory of my native land. 

He spoke of Congress, and the men 

Who represent the present age, 

The heroes of the sword and pen. 

The soldier, and the stately sage. 

He spoke of time, long in the past. 

When clubs and sticks were used by men. 

But now we travel on so fast, 

We only need to use the pen. 

He spoke of Justice, with her scales 

Suspended from her legal hand. 

Stamped on my heart, with plaintive tales. 

The glory of my native land. 

He spoke of all our history past. 

And then he wav'd his little hand ; 

I saw in him — from first to last, 

The glory of my native land. 

His name is one — to all the same. 

He stood where all the boys must stand. 

And to the busy world proclaim 

The glory of their native land. 

To him I spoke, in kind and loving words, 
Roam through the woods and hear the singing birds ; 
Be just to all, and ever justice love, 
12 



l-TS- PEN -PICTURES^ : 

Steal not the swefet rittl6' eggs df a dove.* ^ :.' "I 'n^ 

Be just to birds, for justice first began : ; i . 

In the wild woods, with primitive man; 

Be bold in thought, be bold in action too, • ; . ; 

Be bold in justice, and in virtue true. ; 1 '. 'T 

Be true to thyself, be;just when you pray, . : 

As just in the week as on 'the Lord's day-; i //. 

Of all the problems p^nder'd o'er so long, : 

It is the living test of right and wrong. 

Boys who never steal an egg, or djih'k'a dram, . 

Make men who-ilever swindle Uncle Sam. 

A flower planted ifi:the youthfulmind. 

Full-blown manhood never fails to find. 

The stings of "wrong, that with the boy began. 

Will follow up his growth and sting 't"he nian. 

Then with a gentle pressure of tHe hand. 

Casting o'er the broad and beautiful land. 

The old, the honest ^are passing swiftly away, : . 

The men of the future are the boys of to-day. . 

The learn' d, and the wise, the good and the Ijiraye. 

Are passing away and filling the grave. ^ .' 

If examples were blank, no mortal conldsee,: 

What the rising generation wOuld be. 

Men make boys, and boys make men, good or bad^ 

The mold is cast^-arid finished with the lad. ' . 

This great country — .hills^nd plains, Ja^es 'and boys. 

Iron arms, long rivers, its hopes and joys; . • ; V 

From sea to sea, beneath a genial sun,' L : ., . .: , 

Great in extent, in union, one. : d i *:: c : I 'J. 

For you the struggling past has lived to save,:;.;'!' 

The land of the.free» and home of the brave. 

To you transmitted, with a gerier.6us hand; 

Treasures of a broad. and beautiful land. 

And you with a fond helpmate by your side, 



PEN PICTURES. 179 

May blend sweet home with a national pride. 

The rivers, and lakes, the towns, and the lands, 

Will soon be transmitted to your hands ; 

The sacred records, and government too, 

Will also be transmitted to you. 

Old fate is coming with her magic wand. 

Peering all through this beautiful land, 

And whether in search of the sword or the pen, . 

Will seldom mistake representative men. 

Be just, and true, and never be too late, 

Having no fears of fortune, or of fate ; 

Work for the right and never be afraid, 

The right is at par, and is always paid. 

Work with the brain, and work with the hand. 

Work for the right, work for your native land. 

Live with the just, and die with the brave. 

And flowers of fame will bloom o'er your grave. 

Think for yourself — mold your thought refined, 

Treasure in the brain jewels of the mind; 

For men have thought before, and thought sublime, 

Through all the busy world before your time ; 

Unfolded worlds from Diamonds in the sky, 

Scan'd endless space with artificial eye. 

Gave life to words, and talk'd across the sea, 

Released the slave, the human mind is free, 

Free to think in every shape, and form, 

To raise the wind and to calm the storm. 



^^^ PEN PICTURES. 

RISE AND FALL OF OLD NICK. 

j ADDRESSED TO THE DEVIL. 

Come Beelzebub, thou sneaking ape of time, 

Conceived in sin, and born in open crime; 

Transgressing the law — long years ago, 

The charges are made, stern justice must know, 

What pleadings are brought to lie in the court. 

Guilty, or not guilty you must report. 

The judges are waiting, anxious to know, 

What you will plead, with whom you will go. 

Come honestly up and answer the suit, 

Charged with tasting forbidden fruit ; 

You fled from the garden — in shape a snake, 

Determined to capture all you could take. 

Afraid of the light, slip'd through the dark, 

Crossed over the flood, outside of the ark ; 

Afflicted old Job, and strip'd of his wealth, 

Entered his flesh and poisoned his health. 

From the land of Uz you followed the Jews, 

From tribe to tribe you carried the news. 

Stood at the altar, and wrote with the Scribes, 

To the king of Persia you gave ten tribes. 

Grew handsomely large, and strong by degrees, 

Your form was changed by the Pharisees. 

In Babylonian captivity — 

Your serpent form lack'd activity. 

The Pharisees first gave you legs and feet, 

With dragon head they made your form complete. 

To travel ' round the world, o'er hill and bog, 

Followed by the three-headed Grecian dog. 

Then with Jew and Greek, sneaking through the land, 

To show the wicked world how Devils stand, 



PEN PICTURES. 181 

Deceiving them all with wonderful ease 
By scouting the faith of the Sadducees. 
Then tempting the Good, for forty long days, 
Threw up the sponge, and spoke in his praise. 
Rebuked by the Good, you enter'd the swine, 
Persuading some men to root in that line. 
Last seen by Michael, as he supposes. 
Claiming the boMes and body of Moses. 
Next seen by St. John, revealing your reign, 
Lamenting your fate, and bound with a cha'n, 
Accused by the just, and judged by your peers, 
Was banished from the Jews a thousand years. 
Forsaking these men, and leaving their home. 
Prospected with Greeks — and settled at Rome, 
Spread with the faithful all over the grove. 
Stripping all men as you stripped old Job. 
The charges in short, summed up in brief, 
All men call you a liar and a thief. 
With charges so grave, and granted -fair play, 
In defense of your.self, what can you say ? 
The Devi! rose up, and shaking his mane. 
Opened his mouth in eloquent strain. 
With sparks in Mis eyes, and tongue rolling 'round, 
With feet wide apart, and tail on the ground, 
Rattled his hoofs, no longer a snake, 
Hell-d up his head, and boldly he spake — 
"As thin as the air, and still as the grave, 
I live with the bad, and work with the knave. 
Molding the mean, and greeting the grand, 
I'm passing through each house in the land, 
Forsaking the wise, I stay with the fool. 
No charges are made, I keep a free school, 
Eat without bread, and fatten on a fuss, 
Abandon the dead, as useless to us — 



182 PEN PICTURES. 

The living are mine, and all I can get, 

Are handsomely taken in their own net. 

My traps are set, both early and late. 

Credulous game is caught without bait. 

The field is broad, and wide as the earth — 

To credulous game, all classes give birth. 

I'm sure to be sought, by the mean and low, 

Tbe rich and the proud will come to the show. 

In castle and cot, the great and the small, 

Aside from-the light, will give me a call. 

Bad men follow me, wherever I go — 

Begging me out of all that I know, 

My thoughts are quick, and given at a stroke, 

Are easy to learn when under the yoke, 

Coasting the sea, and all over the land, 

I meet with men to take by the hand. 

Restless and rude, for I never was kind. 

Though lost to the good, I'm not hard to find. 

I pass by the good, the just I abhor. 

Have constantly kept all nations at war. 

Have wrote with the learn'd, embellished the pages 

By stratagems sought — have darken'd all ages. 

Have bound to the stake, and hung with the rope. 

Slept with the queen, and dined with the Pope, 

Familiar with abuse and lost to all shame. 

Hopeless of life, /am nothing but a 7iame. 

A wonderful name, all over the earth, 

The passions of men, have given me birth, 

The passions are good, when properly used, 

The Devil comes in to see them abused. 

When passions are found, the force of the mind, 

The Devil himself, you never will find. 

Remember these words, a wise man said. 



PEN PICTURES. 1 88 



'The Devil is not in a good man's headj' 
I'm vanishing no\v,;Out of your sight,. 
•Gentlemen all, I bid you good night." . 



THE CONFEDERATE FLAG. 

[The following poetic address was preserved by ii rebei ^oman, 
and is inserted for the benefit ot those who did not witnes.v the vvar 
spirit in Missouri in 1861. The rebel ladies 01 Plattsburg manulac' 
tured a very fine confederate flag, intended for the company of Cap- 
tain Crumlow, who were upon the eve of startipg to join the array 
of General Sterling Price. A formal presentation was arranged — the 
company and a large number of citizens assembled at the Plattsburg 
College. A person whose name and address was not preserved prC' 
sented the flag in the name of the ladies. Captain Crittalow requested 
your orator to receive the flag in behalf of the company with a suit- 
able response. Your orator received the flag, and holding it i i^his 
right hand, partly unfurled, returned the follovring response :J 

LADIES. 

Should blood and carnage fill the land^ 

And cities and towns no longer stand. 

Should conquer'd courage gasp for brcatha 

And your defenders, lie coid in death — • 

Butcher'd and maiiglcd on the field, . 

No arm be left, this banner to shield ; 

Take up its folds, with tender hands, 

And on the ground whete virtue stands, 

Trust in God, and consecrate 

This banner to their mortal fate. 

But, no such scene wili ever stain 

The coral of the human brain. 

Mars may forge infernal rods, r 



184 PEN PICTURES. 

And Northmen dream of coal black gods ; 
These lords will fail to come to time, 
For Northmen in a southern clime. 
Our country lies, both far and wide, 
And in it dwells a native pride 
No hand can conquer or subdue, 
While held by such a brace as you. 
In Crumlow's men you place your trust — 
They'll bear this flag above the dust. 

As* the flag was handed to the standard-bearer of the company, 
Gen. D. R. Atchison, Ex-Senator of the United States, appeared on 
the stage to congratulate the speaker. Citizens threw up their hats, 
and ladies waved their ' kerchiefs in applause, while the company 
marched off with the banner thrown to the breeze, followed by run- 
ning boys and idle negroes. A picture fitly representing the brave 
heroism with which Price's army went through the first year of the 



FAMILY AND FATE. 

APDRESS TO A FEMALE RELATION, 

You must not think the cares of life with me 
Are smooth, and placid as a summer sea. 
The joyous days, one by one revealed, 
Turn fresh trouble long, long concealed * 
Gray locks of time adorn the aching brow 
Unfinished work drags heavy now. 

While on we march, in one continuous flood, 
I'm but a drop of the commingled blood ; 
Homogeneous with the family name. 



PEN PICTURES. 185 

Preserving kindred ties and family fame; 
So long, slowly wise and darkly great, 
No stores of wit or large estate 
To deck their graves or write their fate. 

Meekly have I lived, and with the poor must die, 
No stone to mark the ground where I must lie ; 
Sunk with the motley herd of human kind. 
No trace that once I lived to leave behind; 
A mound of earth alone remains with me — 
'Tis all I ask, and all the proud can be. 

When time shall cool my blood and steal my breath, 

When life shall reach the silent shade of death. 

When the cold, damp clods cluster 'round my head, 

Earth to earth, sweet sister, will I be dead ? 

In this dark dream of death's long silent sleep, 

I pray my niece these hopeful lines to keep. 

Poor tired soul, humble and forgiving. 

Without future hope, life ain't worth living. 

Death is but a name magnified by fear. 

The living elements that disappear 

With nature's soft hand, are forever here. 

In these elements the hope of heaven, 

A living hope by kind nature given. 

Come, genius, come, tune thy living song 
To 'muse the merry world while I sleep so long ; 
Sleep not with me — act with the living throng ; 
Cheer up sad times with merry heart and head — 
Lie not entombed, but resurrect the dead. 

Dark mantled fear, with his bow and quiver. 
Stands on the brink of death's dark river ; 
The shield of antiquity covers his head — 
He shoots at the living, not at the dead ; 



186 PEN pictures! 

Through trembling y^///^ his fleeting arrows run, 
Inflicting a thousand deaths instead of one. 
When in future bUss, or in hopeful prayer, 
No mortal ken can see just what we are. 

God gives the mind to us as free as air; 
Life lies in action and is everywhere ; 
Above, below, around, through endless space. 
Life, mind and light fill every friendly place. 
Darkness and death, obscure to human sight, 
Can only remain where there is no light. 
Life, mind and light, eternal in the skies, 
Solace of the weak and soul of the wise — 
Light never was dark, and life never dies, 

Through endless space the thoughtful man can pierce, 

Untarnished mind pervades the universe. 

Shall the dark, silent tomb, with bolts and bars, 

Imprison mind that travels through the stars ? 

Shall ponderous matter, nature's body, find 

Dominion over active, thinking mind? 

Men do not perish with their flesh and bones. 

Or cease to be, when they have ceased their groans. 

For flesh and bones are not the man defined — 

Strange elements of a different kind, 

Reveal the man as they reveal the mind. 

The brain is not the mind, as some suppose; 

We see it there, but know not where it goes. 

Spirit, soul, apparition, thought refined. 

High, deep, quick, endless — Oh God ! what is mind ? 

It moves rtiy hand, molds my measured verse, 

Moves everything, pervades the universe. 



.PEN PICTURES. 

TWILIGHT. 

INTERMEDIATE BODY AND SOUL. 

The rainbow hooped the eastern sky, 
The melting clouds passed softly by, 
The sun had sunk behind the trees — 
Twilight hung on the western breeze. 
The earth rolled on with day and night ; 
But who shall claim the soft twilight ? 
Retreating light, cast on the ground, 
Made cottage-homes a scene profound. 
The plowman left his furrowed field, 
The light of day just half concealed. 
The house-wife spread her generous board, 
Received her mate and blessed the Lord. 
The rivers waved in calm delight 
Beneath the silent shades of night; 
Spirits, concealed by grave-yard stones, 
Silently sleep with dead men's bones ; 
The moving earth dark robes unfurled, 
And sleep subdued just half the world; 
The iron tongue of time had told 
That dreary night was growing old; 
Aurora ope'd her wakeful eye, 
Twilight dawned in the eastern sky 3 
The day of life must also close, 
The night of death no mortal knows; 
Let all men view in calm dehght 
The evening shade of life's twilight, 
When full of years and honors too, 
The evening brings solace to you; 
Departing day will bid farewell, 
When twilight comes no tongue can tell — ' 



187 



188 PEN PICTURES. 

So, calm and thoughtful, let us see 
What twilight brings to you and me ; 
A scene behind and one before — 
Between two worlds. Oh ! mind explore 
Boundless realms and endless space, 
See time and fate stand face to face. 
The night of death, so cold and dark, 
The faith we have is but a spark 
Of living light in every breast, • 
The rich and poor will all be blest. 
The busy day of human life. 
When time is full of peace and strife. 
With scenes behind and hope before. 
The rich forget the needy poor. 
Beyond the earth no poor are found, 
If there we tread on holy ground. 
The poor are rich, the good are great, 
In coming to the future state. 
When twilight comes the sun has set. 
The earth recedes, and we have met 
Where light and shade obscure the sight, 
'Twixt life and death we see twilight. 



THE DEVIL AND TOM WALKER. 

Kentucky, the home of Clay, Crittenden, Marshall, Prentice, 
and other men of distinction, was also the home of one Thomas Wal- 
ker, who, by circumstances and the trials of the times, gave his name 
to history. Living near Frankford, it was in that city, that he ap- 
peared as a hero, playing the fiddle and drinking whisky. 

Tom was well advanced in years, when the Rev. William Miller, 
from a close scrutiny of the prophecies of the Old Testament, predic- 



PEN PICTURES 189 

ted the end of the world in 1843. Whatever may have been Tom's 
good or bad qualities, he was a confirmed Millerite. One day in 
Frankford, as the dissolution drew near, Tom to drown fear, indulged 
immoderately in intoxicating drinks, and while he was in a stupefied 
and senseless condition, a party of Frankford boys, from eight to 
twelve years of age, just emerging into the bright paths of youth, and 
of course, heedless of the approaching dissolution of the globe ; had 
by some means obtained possession of a large raw hide. Upon this they 
carefully placed Tom's body and carried it to the suburbs of the city, 
and there stretching Tom upon the ground, carefully covered him with 
the rawhide^ and then placing upon him a large pile of straw set it on 
fire. 

In the meantime, Tom had dreamt the world was ended, and 
himself arrived in the infernal regions. The heat of the fire had 
aroused Tom from his lethargy, imagination completed the picture, 
and Tom rushing out from the flames, with burning straw streaming 
from his person, cried at the top of his voice: *'The Devil and Tom 
Walker." From this circumstance "The Devil and Tom Walker," 
became a by-word or slang phrase in Kentucky. Tom afterward 
joined a temperance society and became a sober man. 

In the following poem he is chosen to personate temperance and 
virtue, while the Devil personates vice and crime. 

The Devil and Tom Walker one afternoon, 

A solemn subject profoundly discussed; 
The Devil was anxious to keep a saloon, 

If to him, his grace could honestly trust. 
Tom Walker affirmed, " the business was bad." 

The Devil stood up and curtly replied : 
''Idle men everywhere, would surely be glad. 

If the business could be honestly tried." 
Tom Walker said : *' The history of the past, 

Recorded saloons, as they have bursted, 
A notable thing from first to last — 

Honesty, has always been worsted." 
** A necessary evil," said the Devil, 

''In every age, and in every clime; 



190 PEN PICTURES. 

Therefore bad men can surely be civil, 

When dissembling wilj cover a crime." 
Tom Walker said: " Vice is not necessary, 

Though Spirits and Demons may pretend--- 
To mix them up from June to January, 

Their vice and virtue never will blind. 
That evils are necessary, some have told, 

Inducing the thoughtless to believe ; 
Because the problem is ancient, and old, 

And well calculated to deceive." 
The Devil conceded the point to Tom, 

But said to himself: " The will is the way, 
The club house will gather some custom. 

And in it, I can gather some pay. 
Idle men drink, and idle men fight. 

Idle m.en fuss, and idle men tight — 
Sleep through the day, and fuss all night. 

Virtue may fade, but the dollar is bright, 
Eyes go blind, when the dollar's in sight. 

Vice lives in the dark, and flees from the light, 
Gives virtue the dodge, and justice the blight ; 

If Tom is wrong, the Devil is right." 
Changing his tone, the Devil contended; 

" Bad men love justice as well as the good,, 
And justice will swear they have defended, 

The cause of the bad as well as the good." 
' ' You argue your case exceedingly well. 

Guarding the points, to meet Tom Walker • 
Carry some justice to the gates of hell, 

To hear the sound of a smooth talker. " 
" Older than the State, stronger than the wise. 

You live at the root of the government ; 
True men everywhere must open their eyes, 

Or quietly suffer the punishment." 



PEN PICTURES. 

'' Ashamed of your trade, you live in the dark, 

Borrow, the cloak of some. other game; 
Put on the dog make other trades bark, 

Sounding your business in some otherr name.'' 
" The patriarcli Noah planted the vine, ' ::...!'. 

His household joined totgather the grape-; ('; 
He also drank his fill of ,the wine, 

If the Dfevil .caught Noah, who can escape ? " 
Tom Walker may pldad, and Tom may talk, • 

The Devil takes notes to feather his nest, 
Can silently go, where Tom can't walk, ' '- ^ 

Give two in the game and play for the restr 
The Devil Has played for long ages past;- •' ' 

A winning game on all classes of men'; ' -'■■- 
Detected by Tom, checkniated at last, ' 

By subscribing his game with ink and pen. 
Who, like>the D.eyil would ruin^the right, 

By bhghting the .young with still-worm food? 
Live in th^ dark,, and darken the light, 

Drink lager beer and call the stuff good.. - 
How darker than, dreary night it is, 

To all who drink destructive wine ; 
The Devil is sure to claim for his. 

The sunriy ;side of virtue's line." 
Tom Walker hved to see the vision end, 

Through biirning straw an awful sight ; 
The Devil to him a faithless friend, : 

And all who live to learn him right; 
Shades of the. dead and the Devil's dark light, 

Tom Walker no more, nor Devil in sight ; 
Cut loose from the wine, and never get tight. 

Ladies and Gentlemen good night— good night ! 



19] 



192 PEN PICTURES. , 

I 

THE BEAUTIFUL SNOW. ^ 

AN EMBLEM OF VIRTUE. 

Rainbow of thought, in the poet's soft eye, 
Encircle the mind with beautiful sky; 
To speak of the pure virtues of earth, 
The beautiful thoughts, emblems give birth. 
Nothing on earth that's treasur'd below 
Is half so pure as beautiful snow. 

God clothed the earth with air and water, 
Eve, the first fair and beautiful daughter, 
Transmitted to her descending race 
Angelic form, and beautiful face ; 
And purity too, each gallant should know, 
As pure and stainless as beautiful snow. 

Let me say to each descending daughter, 
Cling to the emblem of air and water ; 
God save the daughter, pure and fair, 
Beauty, blended with water and air. 
The treasures of earth honored below 
Girls are as pure as beautiful snow. * 

Let nature's demands defiantly hold 
Sinful indulgence, and offers of gold. 
Sensitive as the blushing young daughter 
Are flowers of spring sighing for water ; 
Sin's dark hai-jd slightly touch'd will show. 
Corruption's i ^.rk in beautiful snow. 

The power of state or pride of sage 
In all of the past, or a future age, 
Will never surpass the emblem so fair, 
Made by the blending. of water and air ; 



PEN PICTURES. 

No treasure on earth that woman can show 
Will capture the heart like beautiful snow. 

The love of display and treasures of gold 
In markets of shame, where virtue is sold. 
Worthless emblem, Oh ! beautiful daughter, 
Cling to the emblem of air and water 
Cast in your bosom, in order to show, 
Your purity, like the beautiful snow. 

Wisdom's bright eye may delinquently trace 
The lines of the form, and beauties of face ; 
Perfection may claim, that nature has made 
A blushing young rose in beautiful shade ; 
As worthless as chafi the daughter may go. 
Whose virtue's not like beautiful snow. 

Cast in the dark by a fatal mistake. 
From beautiful snow no mortal can take, 
The stain of the crime, and leave you as fair 
As the emblem made of water and air. 
Beautiful daughter, as onward you go, 
Always remember the beautiful snow. 



193 



BEAUTIFUL SNOW. 



The following, beautiful poem-, was written by a woman in St. 
Louis many years ago, and was published in the newspapers at the 
time. From it your orator received the idea of writing "The Beauti- 
ful Snow." Thinking the old poem worthy of preservation, it is here 
printed in its original form. 

Oh, the snow, the beautiful snow. 
Filling the sky and the earth below: 



194 PEN PICTURES. 

Over the house-top, over the street, 
Over the heads of the people you meet, 
Dancing, 

Flirting, 

Skimming along, 
Beautiful snow, it can do nothing wrong ; 
Flying to kiss a fair lady's cheek, 
Clinging to lips in a frolicsome freak ; 
Beautiful snow from the heaven above. 
Pure as an angel, gentle as love. 

Oh, the snow, the beautiful snow. 
How the flakes gather and laugh as they go 
Whirling about in their maddening fun — 
It plays in its glee with every one — 
Chasing, 

Laughing, 

Hurrying by, 
It lights on the face, and it sparkles the eye, 
And the dogs, with a bark and a bound, 
Snap at the crystals that eddy around — 
The town is alive and its heart is aglow, 
To welcome the coming of beautiful snow. 

How widely the crowd goes swaying along, 
Hailing each other with humor and song; 
How the gay sledges like meteors flash by. 
Bright for a moment, then lost to the eye ; 
Ringing, 

Swinging, 

Dashing they go, 
Over the crust ot the beautiful snow — 
Snow so pure when it falls from the sky. 
As to make one regret to see it lie 



PEN PICTURES. 195 

To be trampled and tracked by thousands of feet, 
Till it blends with the filth in the horrible street. 

Once I was as pure as the snow, but I fell — 
Fell like the snowflakes from heaven to hell; 
Fell to be trampled as filth in the street ; 
Fell to be scoffed, to be spit on and beat ; 

Pleading, 

Cursing, 

Dreading to die, 
SeUing my soul to whosoever would buy ; 
Deahhg in shame for a morsel of bread; 
Hating the living, fearing the dead. 
Merciful God! Have I fallen so low? 
And yet I was once like the beautiful snow ! 
Once I was fair as the beautiful snow, 
With an eye like a crystal, a heart like its glow; 
Once I was loved for my innocent grace — 
Flattered and sought for the charms of my face. 

Father, 

Mother, 

Sister, all, 
God and myself I have lost by my fall ; 
The veriest wretch that goes shivering by, 
Will make a wide swoop lest I wander too nigh; 
For all that is on or above, me, I know 
There's nothing that's pure as the beautiful snow. 
How strange it should be that this beautiful snow 
Should fall on a sinner with nowhere to go ! 
How strange should it be when night comes again ! 
If the snow and the ice struck my desperate brain ! 

Fainting, 

Freezing, 

Dying alone, 



196 PEN PICTURES. 

Too wicked for prayer, too weak for a moan 
To be heard in the streets of the crazy town, 
Gone mad in the joy of the snow coming down j 
To be and to die in my terrible woe, 
With a bed and a shroud of the beautiful snoWa 

Helpless and foul as the trampled snow. 
Sinner, despair not, Christ stoopeth low 
To rescue the soul that is lost in its sin, 
And raise it to life and enjoyment again. 
Groaning, 

Bleeding, 

Dying for thee, 
The Crucified hung on the accursed tree ; 
His accents of mercy fell soft on thine ear — 
Is there mercy for me? Will he hear my prayer? 
Oh ! God ! in the stream that for sinners did flow, 
Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. 



THE WORKMAN'S SATURDAY NIGHT. 

A TRIBUTE TO HONEST LABOR. /^ 

Through the wide world 'tis cheerful delight, 

To speak of Hfe scenes on Saturday night. 

When merry workmen and their wages meet. 

And leave the cold shop for the homeward street, 

To see the dark mantle cover the sky — 

The light in the cottage meeting his eye ; 

The patient inmates expecting him back 

To replenish the house with all they lack. 

The busy housewife preparing his food. 

And scraping the scraps to make the grub good. 



PEN PICTURES. 197 

A prattling boy, some four years old or more, 

With arms extended meets him at the door ; 

The little eyes turn'd up so clear and fair, 

Says, " Papa, baby climbed up by the chair." 

His hopes tell his fears like the Jewish Dan, 

That his baby boy will soon be a man. 

His wife scans the scene, delighted to know 

That all through the house, the baby's the show 

That mothers must think their babies a show, 

And workmen thus feel — pray, how do you know ? 

God trusted me with a bright baby boy, 

Who taught me to feel his babyhood joy. 

If God gave you the same little treasure ; 

He also gave the same baby-measure. 

No measure so pure to measure delight^ 

As baby pleasures on Saturday night. 

His mission on earth and love of his lifCj 

Is blended at home with children and wife, / 

His purse in her pocket — rich as a Jew, 

Replenish the house, I trust it to you ; 

The ends made to meet in a workman's Hfe, 

By none so even as a truthful wife. 

Let the public halls go on in grand display. 

And workmen go home where they love to stay. 

Let the tempter come, with allurements bold. 

That Madam Rumor's tongue has softly told, 

Enticing stories of high standing fame, 

That price the state below the promised n::me. 

Let all the scenes darting through the mind. 

Leave labor's love and workingmen behind. 

Flora's fair fields, adorned with bright flowers, 

Can ne'er win the heart from his cottage hours. 

Home and his children, the hope of his life^ 

No vision so clear as love for his wife. 



198 PEN PICTURES. 

The fame of the great ne'er made a measure 
Large enough to hold cottage -bound pleasure 
He works with his hands and then takes his rest 
In the bosom of love — God of the blest. 
Come, fashion and frolic, blooming and bright, 
But leave to brave workmen Saturday night. 



INSIDE VIEW OF THE UNITED STATES MAIL 

REVEALED BY THE ANGEL OF OBSERVATION. 

Letter No. i. 
Going West will give each man a farm. 
And living West will do the East no harm, 
As people spread along the Western shore, 
The Eastern man will find an open door. 
The blue bird laid in the di-dapper's nest, 
And the golden eggs are found in the West. 

— Land Agent. 

Letter No. 2. 

Katy's sick and Jennie's gone to school, 
The storm is over and the weather's cool, 
Brother Tom's married and his wife is gay 
She's too fast for him, so the people say 
Some awful things, I never ought to speak. 
Remember this, I'm coming home next week. 

— Confidential Sister. 

Letter No. j. 
The note was protested, won't go in bank, 
And you are requested to sign this blank. 



PEN PICTURES. 199 

The current house has failed — aint worth a cent, 
Long trust ran off and didn't pay his rent. 
Horn'd by the bulls and squeezed, by the bears, 
The golden-wing gods demand our prayers. 

— Failing Merchant. 

Letter No. 4, t 

The little kitten's dead, I'm so distressed, ;' 

To keep my spirits up I do my best. 
Come home right son, I'm so very sad, 
When I see Tom, O, I-l-e be so glad ! 

— Affectionate Little Sister. 

Letter No. j". 

I thought so Betsey, when you married Jim, 
The devil a bit would I take from him. 
To live in a fuss folks never oughter, 
But prove yourself to be mother s daughter. 
To fight and scratch is surely a sin. 
But when he starts the fuss al'ys go in. 

— Mother-in-Law. 

Letter No. 6. 

I-v-e bought some land, paid half the money down. 
Inclosed y-o-u-'l-l find a note on Billy Brown. 
Collect it right away. Tell him I-l-e sue. 
Pay Joe the coin, I-l-e pay the church for^^^^. 

— Church Member. 

Letter No. 7. 

Come over here, Rip, the best place I-v-e seen. 
Lots of boys in town, and half of 'em green. 
I played last night till four. Won all the stakes. 
Bacchus among us with boots full o' snakes. 



200 PEN PICTURES. 

Morpheus embraced me till the clock struck ten, 
Ate a late breakfast, looked 'round me, and t'len 
Acted agent through the day, softly and wise, 
Till watchmen on duty all shut their eyes. 
And t-h-e-n the foolish boys go in, y-o-u b-e-t. 
Come over here, Rip, and help spread the net. 

— Fast Young Man. 

Letter No. S. 

The case is lost. The witness on the stand 
Did not remember the lines of the land. 
His mind was short, I told you it would be. 
The cost is on y-o-u, the work was on me. 

— Attorney at Law. 

Letter No. g. 

Silly went to York, and there she caught a beau. 
He came home with her, a silly chap you know. 
Silly is so strange, as ugly as old sin. 
But when she meets a beau she always takes him in. 
Jenny do come home, sweet Kitty Hope is dead. 
And Hopeful wants to know who will make his bread. 

— Old Maid. 

Letter No. lo. 

Old dad is dead, I want to break the will. 
Joe gets the stock, the farm's left to Bill. 
Non compos mentis, I think is the plea. 
If learned in the law, stern justice could see, 
That fruit is the same grown on the same tree. 
I left old dad but nineteen years ago ; 
Nobody nursed him but Billy and Joe ; 
To feel the soft side they never were lazy. 
And thus by degrees run the old man crazy. 



PEN PICTURES. 

I depend on y-o-u, how much will it take ? 
I'm wilHn' to pay if the will will break. 

— Prodigal Son. 

Letter No. ii. 

If I could sell the world I'd make it cheap, 
A ten-cent mark upon each world I'd keep, 
To show the world I sell the world low down ; 
I'd sell to every man that comes to town 
Wholesale suppUes. I'd buy from endless space, 
At the low price of half a cent apiece. 
The foolish merchant fails for want of eyes 
To scan surrounding space for cheap suppUes. 

— Cheap John. 

Letter No. is. 

I read eleven letters y^/i"/ to see 
What a wonderful thing the mail would be 
Turned inside out by the Good AngeVs hand, 
And read to all the people in the land. 
The different thoughts of the human race, 
Brought to open light and face to face. 
How variegated ever and anon 
To read the statesman and reveal the crown ; 
The ever playful, prattling pedagogue ; 
The cumiing, deep-designing demagogue ; 
The love-sick girl, the widow and the maid; 
And what the tearful, weeping wife has said. 
The Good Angel knows what measure belongs 
To artless prose and warm poetic songs ; 
To fill the tearless eye to overflow, 
And teach the heart to feel another's woe. 
The Good Angel reveals so very slow, 
The indulgent reader must surely know, 



201 



202 PEN PICTURES. 

To turn the ponderous mail inside out, 
A year of holidays must come about. 
Pardpn me now, and in the future look 
To the Good Angel for another book. 

— The Angel of Observation. 



HARD TIMES. 



Come, hopeful men, I am prepared 
To tell you why the times are hard. 
Around the world, go where you will, 
Across the plain and o'er the hill, 
To labor for the needful dimes, 
You meet the cry of cold hard times. 
Nothmg can be without a cause. 
Hard-times are made by certain laws ; 
Individual action brings 
Hard-times lo people and to kings. 
The poor girl strives to ape the rich, 
Pays a fancy price for every stitch. 
Her father works with all his skill 
For extra dimes to pay the bill. 
The poor boy thinks hard work a shame, 
Without a fortune or a name, 
Will try to make himself a man 
By joining hands with some low clan. 
The farmer works to clear the woods; 
The merchant sells him shoddy goods. 
The doctor gives his poison pills. 
The patients die or pay the bills. 
Less work is done for want of hands 



PEN PICTURES. 203 

To clear the ground or till the lands. 
The lawyer pleads his client's case — 
Travels ' round from place to place, 
Relates his plea in open court. 
The judge rules out his last report. 
New bondsmen come to stop the fight, 
And leave him where the wool-is-tight. 
True justice is so far away, 
The poor, to wait the law's delay, 
Must try to do without their dues. 
And tread the way without their shoes. 
Another class of men, ' tis true, 
Pretended friends of me and you, 
Some millions, more or less, I think. 
Who say the world was made to drink. 
They drink bad health to one another, 
Each pulls down a falling brother; 
Deplete the State to pay their crimes. 
Disguise the truth and cry hard-times. 
Rum and fashion, pride and folly, 
Jim and John and Cousin Molly, 
Fostering all these foolish crimes, 
Must ever make cold hard-times. 
No statesman, but an humble bard. 
Has told you why the times are hard. 
Let every one their mission fill. 
Bay off your debt and stop the still, 
Train up the young as they should go. 
Let old and young their duty know, 
Earn before you spend your dimes, 
And then, we won't have hard-times. 



!04 PEN PICTURES 

THE POWER OF TRUTH. 

O virtuous truth ! on my tongue repose, 
Like dew from heaven on the blushing rose; 
A heaHng balm for every wind that blows ; 
Star of the morning — ^light of ev'ry age — 
Prop of the beggar, and pride of the sage — 
Solace of the weak — glory of the strong — 
Guide of the critic and the poet's song; 
Pure as the diamond, as brilliant and bright, 
Tho' covered with falsehood dark as the night, 
Will furnish the mind with a ray of light, 
Tho' faint as the infant ray of the morn 
Heralds the news that young day is born. 
Sure as the heavenly-piercing eye of day. 
Peeps e'er the hills, to look dark night away, 
Ungarnished truth will banish falsehood. 



THE WHEELS OF TIME. 

How slow the iron wheels of Time can turn. 
When from the hidden future we would learn 
Some anxious lesson of eventful life ! 
How slow, how deadly slow, and with what strife. 
They seem to turn upon the road of Time ; 
How harsh upon the ear their sound doth chime ! 
But when the dark-faced future holds in store 
Some reckoning of a different score — 
Some fearful lesson that we have to learn — 
How swift the nimble wheels of Time can turn ! 



PEN PICTURES. 205 

THE DAYS OF MY CHILDHOOD. 

I am wand'ring back to the days of my childhood — 

The mill, the pasture, and deep tangled wildwood; 

The orchard, the cellar, and apple that mellows, 

The sound of the horn, and laugh of my fellows. 

The morning's brief meal, and refreshments at noon. 

The stroll in the wood by the light of the moon ; 

The bath in the river, and fisherman's line, 

The herding of cattle, and feeding of swine. 

The morning in the field, the song of the lark, 

The evening at the cot, and play at the park ; 

The long nights of winter, and games of the season, 

The fine flow of spirits ne'er tainted with treason. 

The bright days of summer joyfully seen. 

The rove through the garden of flowers serene ; 

The blossoms of spring, and the leaves of the fall, 

The sound of the voice of a playmate's call; 

The memories of childhood and young dreams ®f age 

Are twin sister flowers in the mind of the sage. 

sweet path of childhood, flowers of the past ! 

1 traverse thee in dreams, and hug thee so fast I 
When day opens eyes, and morning lays cold. 
The gray hairs of age, and sorrows of old, 

I would go back to slumber, Hve o'er again 
The joys of my youth, forgetting the pain 
Of age, sorrows, perplexities, and strife, 
That shade and darken the last end of life. 



;0G 



PEN PICTURES. 

IDOLS AND IDEAS. 

ESSAY ON JACOB AND LABAN. 

Turn back in history, four thousand years, 

At Laban's house a brilliant youth appears. 

Young Jacob, in the ardor of his life, 

AVilling to serve seven years for a wife. 

Rachel and Leah concerted a plan, 

To blindfold cupid and catch the young man. 

Rachel was pretty and modestly shy, 

Leah, the eldest, was weak in the eye, 

Jacob was faithful, honest and kind. 

The image of Rachel first in his mind. 

Seven years service completed the trade ; 

Leban gave Jacob the blushing young maid ; 

The wedding at night bewilder'd his head, 

And daylight found old Leah in his bed. 

The hand of Rachel must Jacob deplore, 

For Laban demanded seven years more ; 

The service performed, at Laban's demand, 

Jacob took Rachel, at last, by the hand. 

Rachel and Leah bore sons and daughters. 

Jacob cast cattle with rods and waters ; 

His wages is stock, and all that he got 

Was each cattle-calf found marked with a spot. 

Laban loved to mold his gods in metal ; 

Jacob fill'd the fields with spotted cattle. 

Old Laban's fortune, with his cattle went. 

And Jacob saw the face of discontent. 

With wives, and herds, and servants at command, 

He left the Laban house for his native land ; 

With horn and hoof, and whoop and halloo, 

With some to lead and some to follow. 



PEN PICTURES. 207 

And crop the grass on distant sods. 

Young Rachel stole old Laban's gods, 

Bereft oi cattle, and his daughters too,. 

Old Laban thought it idle to pursue. 

In summing up the ends and odds, 

The old man missed his idol gods, 

And paddled on to overtake, 

As he thought, the treacherous Jake. 

Laban and Jake met face and face, 

Each maintained a sacred place. 

The god of Laban — an Idol; 

The God of Jacob — an Idea. 

And there they planted a lasting stone, 

That each should let the other alone. 

On the east, the Syrian hero stood. 

On the west, Jacob gave himself to God. 

In rolling on the human flood. 

Some will turn back to Laban's blood. 

A golden call since Aaron's day, 

Is all that some can preach and pray. 

While some m folly, go to seed. 

And make idols of Christian creed. 

God is ah idea in the mind. 

Eternal with all human kind. 

All idols are to represent. 

And in value net worth a cent. 



208 PEN PICTURES. 

THE DYING DRUNKARD TO HIS SOUL. 

Heaven forsaken — fer one sin, 
The soul set out, when wine set in. 
A vision of Ught in the deep dark ! 
I see the still — a living spark ; 
Bewildered like a fallen star, 
Oh, how I wonder what ycu are ! 

Then — it surpasses me to know 

In endless space — where you will go; 

Shut out from heaven by decree. 

As a wandering refugee ; 

To wander on from shore to shore 

And never find an open door. 

Traveling on, without hope or home, 
Through endless ages yet to come — 
No time to plead, no place for prayer, 
'Tis desolation everywhere. 
Oh, heaven come ! do tell me why. 
The drunkard's soul can never die; 

The Devil, for one sin alojie, 
Will never claim you as his own. 
Lest! Oh, Bacchus — thou God of wine; 
Look upon this poor soul of mine ; 
Ope' thy bubbling wine-bottle eye — 
And as it lives ^ let thy mission die. 



PEN PICTURES. 209 

THE MONEYLESS MAN vs. MONEYLESS WOMAN. 

The Moneyless Man was composed by Henry T. Stanten, of Mays- 
ville, Kentucky. It has been read on the stage in the city of London, 
and won the applause of thousands of England's gifted orators. 

Is there no secret place on the face of the earth, 
Where charity dwelleth, where virtue hath birth, 
Where bosoms in mercy and kindness will heave, 
And the poor and the wretched shall ask and receive. 

Is there no place on earth where a knock from the poor 
Will bring a kind angel to open the door ? 
Ah ! search the wide world whenever you can. 
There's no open door for the moneyless man. 

Co, look in your hall, where chandelier's light 
Drives off with its splendor the darkness of night ; 
Where the rich, hanging velvet in shadowy fold, 
Sweeps gracefully down with its trimmings of gold, 

And the mirrors of silver take up and renew, 
In long, lighted vistas, the wildering view. 
Go there in your patches, and find if you can, 
A welcoming smile for the moneyless man ! 

Go, look in yon church of the cloud-reaching spire, 
Which gives back to the sun the same look of red fire ; 
Where the arches and columns are gorgeous within. 
And the walls seem as pure as a soul without sin. 

Go down the long aisle — see the rich and the great. 
In the pomp and the pride of their worldly estate ; 
V/alk down in your patches and find if you can. 
Who opens a pew to a moneyless man. 

14 



210 PEN PICTURES. 

Go look to yon judge, in his dark, flowing gown. 
With the scales wherein law weigheth equity down, 
Where he frowns on the weak and smiles on the strong. 
And punishes right, while he justifies wrong; 

Where jurors their lips on the Bible have laid, 
To render a verdict they've already made ; 
Go there in the court room, and find if you can, 
Any law for the cause of a moneyless man ! 

Go look in yon banks, where Mammon has told 
His hundreds and thousands of silver and gold; 
Where safe from the hands of the starving and poor, 
Lies pile upon pile of the glittering ore; 

Walk up to the counter — ah ! there you may stay. 
Till your limbs grow old and your hair turns gray, 
And you'll find at the banks no one of the clan 
With money to loan to a moneyless man ! 

Then go to your hovel, no raven has fed 
The wife who has suffered too long for her bread. 
Kneel down by her pallet and kiss the death frost 
From the lips of the angel you poverty lost ; 

Then turn, in your agony, upward to God, 
And bless, while it smites you, the chastening rod; 
And you'l find at the end of your life's little span, 
There's a welcome above for a moneyless man. 



PEN PICTURES. Zi^ 

THE MONEYLESS WOMAN 

Was written by your orator after reading the "Moneyless Man," and 
first published in 1868. 

In answer to all Mr. Stanten has said, 

I'll speak a kind word for the moneyless maid. 

There is one place on earth, wJiere a knock from the 

poor, 
Will bring a kind angel to open the door. 

I've searched the wide world in open review, 
From die three-legged stool to the fine cushion'd pew, 
And found by the dint of a wonderful scan, 
The only true mate of the moneyless man. 

Come, Mr. Stanten, and I'll open the door, 
And show you the angel, so meek and so poor. 

The merchant with his silks and satins for sale, 
May listen an nour to a frivolous taie, 
Or talk for a day of iiis diamonds and pearls. 
But has nothing to say to moneyless girls. 

The doctor, with his pills, forceps and knile, 
Hoarding up money; the cost of your Jife, 
Will purchase a coach, more easy to ride, 
But seldom escorts a moneyless bride. 

The farmer with his fields blooming and green, 
Will go to the church to see and be seen. 
And often returns to his hoc and spade, 
But never takes home a rnoneyjess: maid. 

The preacher condemns the goods of this life, 
As unworthy — both husband and wife, 



. :.: PEN PICTURES. 

Looking be) ond them for all of his bliss, 
Seldom unites with a moneyless miss. 

The lawyer sums up the strength of his fees, 
To court your favor, will get on his knees, 
For money alone, will honor your name, 
But never pays court to a moneyless dame. 

The statesman expounds the laws for a bank, 
Rough hews a platform and stands on a plank. 
Surveys the country, and tells of its fate. 
But never will choose a moneyless mate. 

The soldier with his sword, detesting a foe, 
So gallant on the field his colors to shov.-, 
So brave at the call of the drum and the fife, 
Is too timid to take a moneyless wife. 

The poet will sing the story of fame, 
Give frivolous things a glorious name ; 
Sing for a friend, or sing for a foeman, 
But has no song for a moneyless woman. 

Now, Mr. Stanten, return to your muse. 
And measure \itx feet^ to see what you lose, 
Inspire her brain, deny if you can, 
I've found a true mate for the moneyless mafi. 

Note — When these poems are spoken on the stage, by a gentle- 
man and lady, the lady should adopt the name of the gentleman 

si^eakinjT, instead of Mr. Sianten's 



PFN PICTURES. 213 

THE POET. 

A mnn of sorrow, all compact, of imagination full; whose fertile 
lirain never drops the blossom. 

Rhymers are plep.ly. Poets are like 

TOM WATSON'S DEER. 

In joyous early times and back-woods life, 

A party went out to hunt, and camped 

By a certain stream called Little Fork. 

And with the rising of the morning sun, 

Hunting deer they went, two by two, save Tom, 

AVho went alone and traversed the woods 
Tiie livelong day, and with the setting sun 

ReLiirned to camp. His comrades, lively sat, 

In merry clia'c, around the burning coals. 

All ! what luck ? said one, as Tom walked up. 

Good luck, said Tom, I've killed a dozen deer. 

Where? Where? Where? said all of them at once. 

Two I hung on Pleasant Hill, hard by the 

Nev/-built church. Four I left on Roebuck Ridge 

Right west of l^otters field, ou live oak trees. 

i;\e are strung m Greenwood swamp, ' long the shore, 

Ar-.t] \ ire the East, right on the j)uolic road. 

And one I left on Little bork, right at 

Tnt Jjauey Ford; and Tom Watson sat down. 

Bod and I straight have come, from Pleasant Plill, 

Passed the new-Duill churcn, and saw no aeer, 

Said Bill. We, too, have come from Roebuck Ridge, 

Passed ' round the Potter's iieia, and saw no deer, 

Saiu J oe. And we have come from Greenwood swamp. 

Along the puDiic road, and saw no deer, 

baid Sam ano Q. i om Watson looked sad, 

And rising up, he said : i hunted down 



PEN PICTURES. 

The Little Fork ; when near the Bailey Ford, 

A big buck bounced up. I leveled down 

My fowling piece and shot him through the head, 

And hung him on a Sweet-gum tree, right at 

The Bailey Ford. Just then, CUft Carlo came 

And said : I have hunted up and down 

The Little Fork, and crossed the Bailey Ford. 

Did you see Tom's deer ? said all at once. 

No, I saw no game. Then Tom, laughing, said: 

I take my boasting back — but, sure as fate, 

I crossed the creek right at the Bailey Ford, 

And looked with all my eyes, and in the mud. 

Hard by the shore — I saw the d — — d thing's track. 



Farewell to all, both great and small, 
Who live upon this dirty ball ; 
Remember me — God bless you all. 
And softly let the curtain fall. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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